Linger
by troubled rose
Summary: Elle Roberts was just your average girl. That was until the dreams started, and she began waking up naked out in the garden every other night. So what happens when she realises she's more than she seems, and just might have an important part to play within the deadly world of her favourite films? (Under Construction: Currently in process of revamping & editing)
1. Prologue

**Welcome, **

**Not hard to figure out, this is my FIRST story posted here, and my FIRST venture into LOTR fanfiction. So please be gentle, I'm a virgin. **

**Yes, I edit all my own work. If there's any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes I miss, do let me know! Those things matter, and I will fix them. ****This story is a "modern girl gets sucked into her favourite film" type story, but with a twist. **

**DISCLAIMER: **

1\. An oldy but a goody, I DON'T own any of the LOTR universe. Belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. etc. This goes for every ongoing chapter in this tale. All I DO own are my OC's. You'll know them when you read them. They're the ones you don't recognise.

2\. This story will have a partially AU theme. Of course, all fanfics do to some degree, but I WILL be sticking as closely to the original storyline as my plot allows. Keep this in mind when reading, occasionally characters may say or do things not particularly on par with this world, which is sort of inevitable. This is not a strictly followed guideline to the goings on of Middle-Earth (ie: geography, social aspects, customs etc.), but a work of imagination. Unfortunately I ain't no Professor in this shit. If that's not your cup of tea, do feel free to move along. You've been warned.

**WARNING: **

This story WILL eventually have mature-level content. As in, no kiddies please. M-rated smuttiness and all that. But, of course, tastefully so. If you're looking for a quick fix, probably not the place for you.

This story is COPYRIGHTED. Any unlawful distribution without the directly expressed permission of the author is illegal. And yes, fanfiction is still under copyright laws (No I'm not saying I own LOTR, as I did just establish that I do not), I'm just saying don't post it as your own because it's still fraud and still illegal. I've dealt with it before, so just a friendly reminder.

Written purely for fun and to strengthen my writing, nothing more.

**So please, sit back, relax and enjoy the show!**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

_"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; _

_I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."_

_The Old Astronomer - Sarah Williams_

* * *

**Prologue**

"Oh dear, oh dear me!" Radagast whined uneasily as he rummaged about his cluttered, vine-ridden hut.

It was nothing like his home in Greenwood, but it had managed just as well over the years as the Elven woodland fell to the clutches of evil.

Mirkwood, it was now known. How pitiful.

Sebastian snuffled near his friend's feet questioningly as Radagast swept tomes and artefacts to the floor, effectively clearing the table to make room for the tiny bundle of fur snug and shivering violently in his arm.

"Not now, Sebastian!" Radagast dismissed the hedgehog, spraying rain water from his beard just as a particularly brutal boom of thunder shook the walls.

He'd found the beast, drenched and half dead, whimpering pathetically in pain on a round through the forest just as the rain had started. Already at death's door, Radagast considered it a miracle that he'd found the helpless creature in time.

The tiny, wet thing was placed gently on a coarse woollen rug in the middle of the table. A single flick of the wizard's hand pulled the dying flames in the fireplace to full, unrelenting force. The creature quivered, a soft mewl passing from it's crinkled black snout.

It looked as though it had been dragged, kicking and screaming, from the very bowels of Udûn. And in one single, brash moment, Radagast contemplated ending it's fragile little life.

It wouldn't take much, and would save so much pain and hardship in the future.

After all, it was a monster.

Just as his worn hands crept to extinguish the flame of life within the now unconscious infant, Radagast snapped back to reality with another ominous, thundering boom from the dark sky above.

"Valar forgive me, what am I doing?!"

Shaking himself, Radagast continued his frantic pace as the rain bucketed down outside, a few leaks in the ceiling caught by the scattered tin cans below.

"Ah, yes!" He crowed triumphantly, lifting a few herbs from the recesses of a worn leather satchel.

Grinding them into a paste, he hastened to tend to the small beasts wounds. Radagast paid no mind to the various animals watching curiously from the shadows, too fearful to leave the safety of the darkness with such a strange, unknown scent on the air.

Lightning flashed, followed closely by another tremor of thunder right above their heads.

Lifting his hat diligently, the wizard pulled out a small, hidden vial and bade the monster drink.

A half hour later and Radagast was shushing the tiny bundle softly as he wound a blanket around its prone form for extra warmth, a small smile playing tentatively on his lips as he stroked the damp fur back from closed eyes.

It was no bigger than his forearm, with fur missing in sporadic patches. The little beast had fallen asleep almost immediately as he'd began his ministrations, a yawn baring it's tiny pointed fangs and curling tongue to the world.

"Oh_ Yavanna_," Radagast sighed heavily as he sat back in his armchair by the fire, the infant she-wolf soundly asleep within the comforting embrace of his arms, "Why have you sent her to me?"

He would take care of her, nurse her back to health and rear her as she grew. Oh yes, of course he would. He'd never been known to turn down stray, helpless animals. After all, he wasn't dubbed the 'Tender of Beasts' for nothing.

But, Yavanna help him, this little wolf would surely test him over the years. One didn't have to be a wizard to recognise a direct descendant of Draugluin himself.

Those unusual, vibrant violet eyes said it all.

* * *

_Modern times, Australia._

She had woken up, naked as the day she'd been born, covered in dirt and buried beneath the flowers of her back garden _again_.

Not that she had anything against nature or whatever, but you know.

It was fucking weird.

Elle Roberts lifted her head to the rising sun, the overpowering scent of rolled soil permeating her senses.

"What the f-" She cut herself off, unceremoniously dragging her leaden form to a shaky stand.

What _happened_ last night?

The last thing she could remember was getting home from work around 10:00pm, and passing out cuddling a bottle of cheap wine an hour later. Absolutely nothing that would have led her to wind up nude to the chill of an early Autumn breeze, laying in a pile of dirt, with a headache the size of an avalanche.

Okay, so maybe the last part had something to do with the wine. But she drew the line there, she certainly hadn't drunk enough to completely black out.

Elle glanced around nervously to her neighbours yards, hands pressed to her breasts and between her thighs for safety, before a squeak tumbled from her lips and she bolted toward the door with all the grace of a newborn foal.

That is to say, not much.

At least nobody had seen her in her birthday suit, which wasn't too great a comfort after waking up like this for the second time in under a month.

Elle shivered, cold and confused, and made her way through her small but tidy home in Newtown, Sydney, to the dingy bathroom she unfortunately shared with her airhead roommate.

Harley's Barbie-blonde hair weaved in mattered strands across the tiny sink, causing Elle's nose to crinkle as she shut the door behind her.

No matter how many times she rinsed them down the drain, they always seemed to creep back in force.

Taking a shuddering breath, Elle raked a mud streaked hand through her tangled hair and appraised her nude self in the dusty full length mirror propped up beside their bath/shower combo.

Fuck.

She definitely looked like she'd spent a decent enough portion of her night rolling about in a vegetable patch, that was for sure. Smelt like it, too. If she was being honest.

Her normally clear, pale skin was now littered with the evidence of her little late night adventure, her hair as equally spoiled by the mud she'd used as a pillow.

"What the _actual_ fuck, Elle." She groaned, futilely attempting to wipe a smudge of dirt from her cheek.

If she wasn't waking up naked somewhere, she was having bizarre dreams about running through woodlands and hunting prey on all fours. Whatever was going on in this brain of hers, it just wasn't right.

After effectively managing to only smear the mud deeper into her skin, Elle growled and swung herself up and into her shower.

Scrubbing at her body like a woman possessed, she stayed that way until the steaming water ran cold and clear and the room smelled overpoweringly like her coconut body wash and jasmine shampoo.

Finally satisfied, though grim with confusion, she patted herself dry with the less-than-savoury company of her turmoiled thoughts.

What was _happening_ to her?

These blackouts were becoming so much more common now, and it was scaring the crap out of her. They had started suddenly in her late teens, happening maybe once a year. And now, at twenty-three, they were coming in monthly.

It was as if whatever had blessed her to be born with Alexandria's Genesis had suddenly decided, '_Oh, hey you, the one with the strange eyes and no body hair! Since you don't get your period because of that genetic mutation I gave you, how about you get frequent monthly blackouts and weird-ass dreams instead? Sound good_?'

"No it fucking doesn't, asshole." Elle grumbled to herself, whipping on her cobalt blue robe.

A loud knocking on the door interrupted her musings, making her jump back and snarl.

Wait, _what_?

_Snarl_...?

"Ellie, you done? I gotta pee!" Was the answering call as the banging sounded again.

God she hated that nickname.

"I'm done, I'm done." Elle answered wearily as she pulled open the door to Harley's bleary-eyed face.

"Sweet. You better not have used up all the hot water!"

Grinning secretly to herself for taking a longer than usual shower, Elle let her roommate through before seeking refuge in her bedroom.

Now, Harley was pretty much everything Elle wasn't. Which was probably why Elle had been so open to having her as a roommate to begin with.

A typical party girl, obsessed with Kim Kardashian and Justin Bieber (_gag_), she spent more time on her hair than Elle would reading an entire novel. The term Malibu Barbie sprang to mind whenever Elle thought of her. Artificially straightened blonde hair, baby blue eyes and an unnatural tan so deep it was off-putting to say the least.

These days, Elle preferred spending her time with her head stuck in a book or watching a great film. She had more of a 'been-there, done-that' attitude toward Harley's constant stream of late nights and catatonic hangovers, and downright refused to spend her free time in an uncomfortably tight dress and tottering heels just for the attention of some asshole not worth her wasted breath.

Unfortunately not one for a lot of friends lately, Elle spent the last few years avoiding the subject and was more or less always alone. Which is exactly how she liked it.

Not that she didn't have any social skills, or anything. If pressed, she could easily hold her own in a conversation. She just preferred not to. Sure, she had acquaintances and even a few work mates at the library, but no one she would bother to _actually_ call _friend_.

At least, not since Angie died and everything fell apart.

Taking ahold of her bottom lip between her teeth, Elle dressed in a simple white t-shirt and faded boyfriend jeans, effectively hiding herself behind the baggy clothing, before combing out her long hair.

Sitting at her dressing table in view of her mirror, she worked on the decadent curls that fell in layered waves to her waist. Thick, luxurious and a rich, chocolate brown. Her hair was easily her favourite asset.

That or the violet-blue eyes she'd slowly grown to like as she grew older, despite the way she'd felt about them as a child. Just like her hair, they were darkly lashed and exotically slanted, striking against her alabaster skin. However those were mostly hidden behind the black-rimmed spectacles she wore. Contacts just seemed to irritate her.

Alexandria's Genesis was thought to have been bred out centuries ago, a mutation that caused the bearer unusual violet eyes, ghostly pale skin that refused to tan, and not a single bodily hair save that of her head, brows and lashes.

Plus, she never got her period. Which was pretty wicked, she didn't really want to have kids anyway.

The downside, however, was that it was causing blackouts now. Or so she assumed, because if it wasn't the mutation then she had serious cause to worry.

Logically, she knew that that didn't make a whole lot of sense, but at the moment she couldn't really care less. Just one more concern to add to her growing list.

Finally finished with her hair, Elle braided her still-damp locks back from her face with a flourish.

Hurrying now, she stuffed her feet into her favourite pair of old boots, snatching her shoulder bag from the hook by her door before pulling on a loose cardigan.

Not even bothering to eat breakfast, Elle slipped from the front door with a barely audible creak to the sounds of Harley's shrieks under the freezing cold spray of the shower.

Smiling jubilantly, Elle hummed as she walked briskly to the station, ready to begin another long, tiring day at the library.

She'd be closing up again tonight, but since it was Friday, maybe she could get home before 10:00 for once.

Yeah, _right_. Like that would ever happen.

* * *

Elle hadn't bothered to check her phone, but she was pretty sure Harley had sent her a very nicely worded text describing her sentiments on the little incident with the shower this morning.

The thought made her smile every time. _That's for always stealing __my__ clothes, and staining them with your stupid fake tan_!

Paybacks a bitch.

Her shift was almost over, just a half hour more and she'd be done until Monday. They'd already closed up for the evening, ushering patrons out like buzzing flies. Now Elle was the only librarian left, staying behind a little later to tidy up.

As always, she'd been stuck straightening the DVDs for a good ten minutes now. Somehow this was always the messiest station.

She sighed, exaggerated and drawn out. Her eyes felt heavy, her body on autopilot as she meandered through the rows of films.

"Fucking hell, man. _Really_?" Elle snapped to no one as she spied yet another pile of films tossed haphazardly to the floor at the end of the last aisle.

Kids these days, disrespectful little wankers.

Bending to gather the dropped merchandise, she flicked through to check for damage before placing them back into their correct positions.

"Great, just great!" She scowled down at the last cracked case in her hands.

Typical. And it just had to be one of her favourite movie franchises, too. A three-disc set of a limited edition Lord of the Rings trilogy, and now it was broken.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Grumbling incessantly, Elle stamped her way back down through the library to the office. The discs inside the broken case were blessedly undamaged. But still unusable. It's not like she could just tape back up the case and hand that out, now could she?

She sighed again, letting her head fall into the crook of her arms as she sat down. It had been a long day.

* * *

_Elle_.

Elle's head snapped up, eyes wide and far more awake than they'd been a moment ago.

When exactly had she fallen asleep?!

Fumbling for a clock, Elle gasped. It was three in the morning. She'd been unconscious for over five hours!

Groaning, Elle rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood from her chair, slinging her bag over her shoulder and adjusting her fallen glasses as she did. She had to be getting home.

_Elle_.

She spun, confused. Had someone just...?

_Elle_.

Elle felt a chill roll up her spine, suddenly feeling very _not_ alone.

Taking tentative steps forward, she peered out from the office and down the dimmed aisles of the library. It was pitch black at the end of the halls, the ominous glow from the street lamps outside her only light.

"H-hello?" She called, eyes wide and fearful behind her thick spectacles.

No answer.

Had she imagined it?

"Of course you did, you dickhead." Elle scolded herself, turning away just as the same soft, feminine voice whispered out once more.

_Elle_.

She started, her body stiff and gripped with terror.

Elle stepped slowly out into the main floor, her eyes scanning wildly for any sign of life.

"This- This isn't funny!"

Her voice echoed, to no answer.

"Come out, asshole! I'll call the police!" Her words shook. Hardly the intimidating picture she'd hoped for.

_Do not be afraid, little one_.

Elle jumped, scrambling from the door and whipping around as she raised her hand nervously to the back of her neck. She could have sworn the voice had been directly behind her!

Goosebumps ran riot across her skin as she broke out into a nervous sweat.

Shaking her head, Elle clenched her eyes shut in response.

"My god, _please_, leave me alone!" She cried out.

After a few moments standing there in the dark, shaking and terrified, Elle finally lowered her hands from her face and peered around.

Nothing.

Her heart was thumping in her throat and didn't seem to want to calm down as Elle spun full circle in search of anything amiss.

"Hello...?"

Complete silence.

Well, save for the cars passing outside anyway.

Finally releasing the breath she'd pent up inside her chest, Elle stepped toward the main doors with her set of keys jingling in her hands. With her body still on complete alert, she made a run for it toward the doors when the voice spoke once more.

_Élodie_.

Elle stopped dead in her tracks, her breath hitching in her throat.

What did it call her...?

In that split instant, all fear was erased from Elle's mind and posture. She straightened slowly, turning toward the sound.

A blue orb glowed eerily in the dark just a few feet away, dancing before her eyes as the sweetest voice caressed her ears, drowning her in a state of serenity.

_Little one, it is time._

Elle nodded blindly, her eyes innocently wide as her lenses reflected back the blue light emanating from the orb. Her mind was perfectly blank and at peace. All she knew was that she had to, no, _wanted_ to follow that sweet voice.

With each step she took, the orb floated back, frolicking just out of reach of her outstretched fingers. Elle needed to touch it, she felt it in every bone of her body. If only it would stop jumping about like a skittish deer and actually let her.

_Follow me,_ it whispered to her, filling her senses, _Follow me to who you really are_.

She followed. Staggering about like a desperate drunk, sure, but still followed as the orb led her down through the stacks until they could go no further.

Elle was breathing hard, in rapture as she shuffled closer and closer to her prize.

And just as her fingertips reached out, finally making contact and slipping blessedly beneath the oddly cool surface of the blue light, her senses returned full pelt.

Elle recoiled like it were a hot poker, but it was too late. Her screams went unheard as she was sucked into the alien substance, and gone in a blinding flash of white light.

_Follow me, little wolf_...

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed this little tidbit to begin with! Gotta build the foundation, and all that jazz ;) PLEASE, don't forget to leave a review, good or bad, the feedback tells me not only what you want, but how I can be better! Follow/Favourite too if you liked!**

***EDIT***_ I just wanted to add this little note here guys. As I straighten out in Chapter 1 (at the intro) there is a reason why Elle has violet eyes and not brown/amber, like a normal wolf. It's because it's so important to have that distinguishing characteristic between her and the wolf. This eye colour is not unbelievable however, as it is an ACTUAL eye colour. Google it. Elizabeth Taylor had violet eyes. It's a genetic disorder. As well as that, I wanted an eye colour that could exist in both realms and still be distinguishing, drawing that distinction between the genetic disorder thought to have been bred out, to the werewolf disorder thought to have been bred out. It was supposed to be a clever similarity between the two worlds that happened to fit for one person. ALL the werewolves, including Draugluin the sire, have violet eyes in my story. That is not canon, but it is what I needed for Radagast to recognise what she was. Please stop telling me an unusual eye colour is a Mary Sue deal. I know it is, but this isn't because I like the colour (Personally I would have preferred green with her hair). It has a purpose in this story that is paramount. Otherwise for all Radagast knew, she was just a normal wolf with no human soul taken from her. If I wanted to make it canon, she would have had to have red eyes. But that would have been even more unusual and unbelievable in the human world, and TOO distinguishing in Middle-Earth that she'd likely be attacked on the street. Again, there is a purpose to EVERYTHING I put in this story, even if you can't see it yet! All will be revealed!_

_alisonkerr . files . wordpress (add dot com here) / 2011 / 03 / elizabeth-taylor . jpg_

_^ The closest thing I could find to how I picture her eyes. See, not too insane! ^ (Remove spaces, etc) remember guys, violet isn't purple. It's a dark bluey colour that has a dash of purple to it._

**So much love, and so much devotion! Thanks to all who took the time to read this!**

**Until next time,**

**\- T **

**xo**


	2. Welcome To Wonderland

**A MASSIVELY HUGE thank you to all who reviewed, followed and favourited! All my love to those, it really lights up my day to see that this story is striking up that intrigue already. You are all so incredible, and I'm so humbled by it!**

**I do have a review by an Anon I would like to address, purely because it seemed like an answer was needed and will probably end up answering a few other reader's questions, too. Just so you know, I do reply via PM to every Review if you sign in! Sadly I can't reply to Anon's directly, so if you want a reply do try to sign in first :)**

**Anon (Maybe) :** So you seemed a tad concerned on my creating a Mary-sue character, which is really sweet that you took the time to warn me and help me out. Just thought I'd ease your fears a bit, and answer them here. The fabled return is paramount to a plot that includes realm-travelling, purely to make it believable and not random pot-luck. Although I don't know how fabled this is, as she doesn't really have a huge impact on the Fellowship's journey or success, but rather needs them to find answers for her own path. Her name is unusual to english-speaking countries but is fairly common in Europe, (and as we all know 'Elle', as people only know her as, is a "normal" name). The eye colour being unnatural is so important to my plot, purely because I needed a distinguishing characteristic she shared with the wolf, and since all humans really share with wolves is eyes, it was an obvious choice (; as well as, Alexandria's Genesis is a genetic mutation thought to have been bred-out (some say myth, some say real. Idc which, it just fit for the story!), much like werewolves in Middle-Earth are thought to have, too. And finally, this species IS canon! Read up on Draugluin (and Carcharoth), he was the sire to all werewolves of Middle-Earth and thought to have been bred out to the Wargs and the White Wolves. Yes, I did do my homework! It's unbelievable, I know Hahah. But anywho, I really do appreciate your review and warning, it's so important to a writer at this stage!

**And, without any further adieu, here's the next chapter!**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

Elle floated in and out of consciousness.

No fear, no worries. Nothing. Just a blissful state of emptiness.

She wondered absently if this is what dying felt like. It didn't seem to really matter, though. It's not like she had much to live for. Her life was a meaningless repeat of the day before. No family, limited friends. Nothing new, nothing interesting. Just work and sleep. Work and sleep.

Mmm, sleep sounded nice right about now...

* * *

Elle awoke stiff and aching all over, feeling as though she'd spent the night on the floor rather than her bed. Her mind struggled to lift the fog of sleep, blinking blearily up into the blazing sunshine above.

"Just a few minutes more." She mumbled incoherently to herself, rolling as if to pull her doona around her a bit tighter.

When her hand grasped nothing but air, and her shoulder managed to dig straight into a rock, Elle's eyes finally popped open. Something was _definitely_ wrong.

Fuck, she wasn't naked in her garden again was she?!

Hefting herself up into a sitting position, horror slowly dawned on her as she looked around.

Oh, no. It was _much_, much worse.

She almost refused to believe what she was seeing, and just when she decided it must all be a dream, her memories from last night came crashing back.

The orb, oh fuck!

With a noise akin to a wounded animal, Elle scrambled to her feet, her boots scraping against dirt and gravel.

She was at the opening of a cave of sorts, definitely something that was home to an animal judging by the den-like structure to the back. Elle shook uneasily at the impressive pile of bones in the corner, her mouth going dry.

Whatever this thing was, it was big. And hungry.

Breath quickening, she surveyed her surroundings immediately. The cave was bare, so where was the beast?

Hardly daring to breathe, let alone move, Elle felt the telltale sign of tears sting at her eyes as she stood frozen to the spot. What the hell was _happening_ to her?!

A cheerful whistling brought her attention to the light at the front of the cave, and she back-pedalled quicker than she'd have thought possible under the circumstances.

_Fuck if I'm becoming someone's breakfast today_!

She nestled herself into a narrow alcove in the wall, clamping a hand over her mouth as the tears began to flow freely and the blood rushed, pounding like a drum, to her ears.

"How's my girl today?" An old and squeaky voice greeted cheerfully from the entrance, echoing throughout the cave.

"Where are you, girl?"

Fucking, christ! This was not happening. This was _not_ happening.

Some rustling ensued, presumably the distinctly human voice searching for whatever _thing_ they were keeping in here as a pet.

But what was _she_ supposed to be here for? A_ snack_?! The thought made her visibly shudder as a loud sob racked her body.

The movement stopped just as suddenly, and Elle's eyes grew as wide as saucers as she pressed the palm of her hand to her mouth.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"Girl? Y'back there?" The squeaky voice came closer, shuffling slowly across the cave.

Knowing she had no other option, Elle clung to the strap of her bag and swung, just as the shuffling grew too close.

With a strangled cry and a resounding thud, Elle wasted no time in leaping over her fallen victim and racing toward the cave's opening. She'd barely registered the tiny old man dressed in layers of brown before she was whizzing past, her insides clenching as she ran.

"Wait!" The old man called out in distress, and in that moment Elle made the mistake of looking back.

He'd lifted a stick of sorts, almost as large as himself, when her feet had lost all momentum and she realised she was, quite literally, stuck in mud. Where the hell had that come from?! She could have sworn it was just rock and dry dirt a second ago!

Tugging at her boots with the desperation of a captured animal, Elle cried out, "Please, let me go! I didn't do anything!"

The old man was heaving himself up from the floor, looking fairly bedraggled and utterly unaware of Elle's current distress.

"Ooh, my back." He moaned, cracking his joints back in place before turning his bushy eyebrows toward her.

"Let me out of here, you fucking asshole!" Elle all but screamed, breathing so hard she was pretty sure she was hyperventilating.

"Calm down, girl. It's all going to be okay." The old man said in a soothing tone as he crept closer, wary now.

"Okay?! Are you fucking mental, old man?" Elle shrieked, ripping and tugging at her legs to no avail, "I'm about to be dinner!"

The little old man's brows almost disappeared up into the tattered brown hat perched atop his head, mouth dropping open as he looked to her, to the den, to the pile of bones on the floor, before bursting out laughing.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psycho!" She sobbed, panting hysterically, "Come any closer and I'll rip your goddamn throat out!"

Now he looked slightly taken aback, and a little like he probably wouldn't put the threat past her.

"Now, now," He sighed in obvious exasperation, "No need for that sort of language. I'm not going to hurt you, girl. You're not dinner, you're safe."

"Safe?!" Elle sputtered incredulously, "I've woken up in a fucking cave, dude, with bones and- and dead things! And now you won't let me leave!"

He had the decency to look a little guilty now, but that didn't make Elle feel any better about the situation.

"Just, _please_," She implored desperately, "I won't call the police, if you just let me go!"

"Police?" The old man asked quizzically.

"Yeah, y'know? The guys in blue who lock people up when they kidnap girls for their dinner? Where have you been, under a bloody rock?" Elle snapped, finally giving up on her planted feet and straightening to cross her arms and glare.

She was supposed to look intimidating, but with a tear stained face and those constant tremors, she wasn't having much luck.

"I don't know what... _police_, is." He shook his head unsurely and continued, "But I cannot let you go. You would die in a matter of hours out here."

The full realisation of what was happening to her hit home, and she accepted with a staggering breath that she had no idea where she was. Now that her initial adrenalin was dissipating, Elle swayed and her vision clouded.

When had she become one of those girls who were always having the ridiculous notion to faint?

"I- I need to sit down." She croaked, and instinctively took his offered arm to steady herself.

As easily as her feet had been immobilised, they were suddenly free and Elle was dimly aware of the old man leading her back toward an array of boulders to sit down.

He was muttering something unintelligible to himself, though she managed to catch the end of it. Something about not being prepared for this to have happened so soon, or whatever.

_Well_, she scoffed to herself, _neither was I, dickhead_.

"I just want to go home." Elle's voice was barely above a whisper, broken and drained. She looked up after receiving no answer, her eyes swimming with tears as they locked on to her kidnappers.

"I'm sorry, dear. That just isn't possible." He murmured, tugging on his beard nervously.

"Well make it possible!" She demanded roughly.

Elle eyed him with hostility. He was probably the dirtiest man she'd ever met, and likely homeless too. Her nose recoiled at the side of bird... _business_ mattered through his peppered brown hair. Something about him was annoyingly familiar, but she brushed it off. The tugging grew more pronounced as the old man fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Your home is far from here, child." He said.

"How far?" Her anger was quickly resurfacing as she watched the old man's grey eyes dart about anxiously.

"Look," She snarled, "You can't just kidnap me, tell me I'm safe and then not say a goddamn thing more! I deserve an answer!"

"I didn't kidnap you." He was quick to correct, "You were brought to me. A long time ago."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"I've been your guardian since you were a babe. Though I am sorely unprepared for your arrival, I did not think you'd be here for at least a few seasons more..." He trailed off in thought, before catching up with himself hurriedly, "The alignment happened faster than I'd calculated. But never mind that, you're here now. And we don't have much time."

"Time for _what_?!" Elle stammered aggressively, "You to lose your marbles even more?"

He chuckled in amusement, "Just like your wolf, aren't you? Of course, she never actually _said_ much but I certainly got the gist..." He was rambling again, much to Elle's chagrin.

What the hell was he even saying? This man needed psychiatric help, pronto.

"Look," She cut him off quickly, "I get it. You're alone out here, living the hermit lifestyle. Things can get a little skewered with that kind of isolation. But keeping me here isn't going to solve your problems. You need help, okay?"

"No," He clasped his dirty hands over hers, "_You_ need help, girl. Now that you're here, they will sense you. They will come for you, and anyone close to you. We need to leave, now. The Fellowship is our only hope."

The... Fellowship?

Something clicked, and then it all made sense. The jaunty hat, mattered beard and twisted staff. This man, honest to goodness, actually _believed_ he was a member of The Hobbit cast.

To be fair, he'd done a bang-up job on impersonating the addle-minded wizard Radagast. He could practically be his twin! But that didn't change the fact that he was crazier than she'd ever thought possible.

"Oh my god," She whispered, "You're insane."

The old man's brows furrowed, "I'm quite clear of mind, dear. I assure you."

"Oh, right." Elle scoffed, "Sorry _Radagast the Brown_. Have I offended you?"

He grinned from ear to ear, "Not at all girl, I'm so glad you're coming to terms. We don't have a moment to lose."

"It's called sarcasm, you moron." Elle spat as she pulled her hands from his, "And I'm not going anywhere with you."

He stood, his expression of complete disbelief, "But... The Fellowship! If you are here, then that means it has started. I _must_ take you to Gandalf before Sauron catches wind of you."

"ENOUGH," She shouted from her seat, "of these fucking games! You are going to let me go right now! The fellowship _isn't_ real. Radagast, Frodo, Sauron. None of them are real! They're characters in a _book_, and you are just insane!"

He stepped back from her anger. "But, my dear... It _is_ real. We are in Middle-Earth. Yavanna brought you back to your true form, just as the signs predicted."

Elle stood and made a point of addressing her attire, "Try again mate. If this is supposed to be my true form, well it's the same fucking deal. I don't look any different."

"But you are. Tonight, when the moon rises, you will see. Yavanna has no power over the night. That is the wolf's dominion. And as you grow in time, the she-wolf grows, and as one you will eventually combine."

"This is fucking ridiculous. It's like talking to a wall." Elle groaned, sitting back down with a hand to her temple.

"Tell me about it." The Radagast-wannabe agreed, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

She peered up from between her fingers, "Did you honestly just make a joke?"

He nodded, a nervous twitch to his smile.

"Time and a place, dude." Elle sighed, letting her head fall back into her hand.

This was nothing like she could ever have imagined a kidnapping to be like. Sitting in a cave, talking nonsense with an old man dressed as Radagast the Brown. Typical of _her_ life to make things just that little bit more weird.

Her stomach growled uncomfortably, breaking the awkward silence and demanding Elle's attention to just how hollow and starved she felt. That hunger, coupled by her parched throat, was the final catalyst in pushing her to make a decision on where to go from here.

Maybe if she could get a decent meal out of this guy, and actually sit down with him long enough to have a normal conversation, there would be a slim chance he'd see reason and take her home.

Elle still couldn't decide how the blue orb thingy tied in to all of this, but priorities took precedent. Food first, information later.

"Look," She said, doing her best to sound reasonable, "Maybe we should both sit down, have some breakfast, and talk about this properly. We're getting nowhere from here."

Radagast nodded, eager to be moving forward, "Of course, girl. You're quite right. My house is just outside, I'll be happy to whip you up something to break your fast."

Elle rolled her eyes at the old-school language. She had to give the guy props for staying in character so well.

"Whatever, dude. And my name is Elle, not _girl_."

Elle followed the sprightly old man as he hurried out of the cave, careful to follow exactly in his footsteps so as not to fall victim to the mud again, and straight into the full brunt of sunshine outside. She shielded her eyes against the blinding light, drinking up her surroundings as surreptitiously as possible.

Nope, didn't recognise a thing.

She looked to be in the very fucking middle of a forest. And not the sparse, cute, woodland kind either. This place looked like it had been left to run wild for thousands of years, with vines hanging off of trees as tall as buildings and as wide as freaking hot tubs. The untamed, feral nature of her surroundings sent goosebumps down her spine.

She shuddered, avoiding a spiders-web that hung loosely over the cave's door.

"Hurry now, girl. Pardon me, _Elle_. It's right this way." The Radagast impersonator said in his high, twitchy voice, clearly relieved that she was going along with him as he led her down a roughly worn trail.

Elle followed diligently, occasionally stumbling over upturned roots and loose stones. He wasn't kidding when he said he lived right outside. They rounded a fairly massive line of trees to come in full view of the most unusual and oddly darling little cottage she'd ever seen.

The roof was thatched and the walls carved from a mess of wood, stone and mud. It was like a child had randomly thrown in the varying components and it had somehow, through some sort of miracle, managed to work.

Elle raised her brows, concerned with the infrastructure. Obviously there were no architectural laws keeping this dude's imagination at bay, that was for sure. It was a wonder that the whole thing was even standing up, with the way it was leaning oddly against the direction of a few saplings sprouting from the top.

Trudging warily after Radagast (_who, by the way, didn't seem even the tiniest bit concerned that his house looked as if it would crumble at any moment_), Elle felt that the cottage, at the very least, certainly reflected the mindset of it's owner.

The old derelict held the crooked wooden door open for her, and she stepped in to an even greater mess than the outside. The walls were lined with moss and thick tree roots, seemingly the only thing actually holding it all together, with clumsily constructed shelving upon every other spare bit of space. Books, trinkets and bottles containing she-didn't-want-to-know-what littered the shelves, tables, and most of the chairs too. A small kitchen-like area was in one corner (_though she didn't know how someone had survived so long without a fridge or microwave, and with only what looked to be a cauldron and water pump to aid them_), a single-sized cot in the other, and no other doors or rooms that she could make out whatsoever.

"Welcome, welcome," Radagast ushered her inside, completely oblivious to her reproving stare, "Please sit down."

"Is this really it?" She blurted out as she took a chair, before realising how rude it had sounded and snapping her mouth shut.

_Good one, Elle. A kidnapper that doesn't want to chain you up or torture you, and you go ahead and insult him_.

Radagast didn't seem to comprehend the jab, thinking her question genuine as he answered lightheartedly, "Oh yes. There is of course an outhouse behind the water tank, but other than that this is my home. Ingenious, isn't it?"

"Uhh, sure." Elle said as she inspected the fireplace, wondering how on earth this place didn't go up in flames.

Radagast lifted his leather hat with a flourish, hanging it by the door to reveal a pair of birds perched and sleeping within.

My god, this guy took the term cosplay to a whole other level. Elle wondered absently how he managed to tame the animals into behaving so well under the hat for such long periods of time, sure that it must be some form of animal cruelty.

She watched on, curious and somewhat mildly disgusted as he went about preparing breakfast.

The utensils didn't look all that clean, her doubt only rising when she realised he had no stove, no oven, and was now expecting the omelet he'd tossed together to cook over the open fire in the hearth.

"I don't have any meat left, I'm afraid. Is that alright?" The old man was saying, though she was hardly paying much attention as he stirred the egg, veggie and herb goo together to the watchful eye of a hedgehog, "Not that I eat a lot of it to begin with, but what with feeding and taking care of you I just never seem to have any left over for much else."

"Excuse me?" Elle said as she caught on, ignoring the question seeing as how she was a vegetarian anyway, "What do you mean feed and take care of me? I've been taking care of myself my whole life, man. No thanks to you, or to my parents, or anyone else."

Radagast looked up and once more, especially in this environment, she was struck by just how damn similar he looked to the version of the brown wizard from the newest Hobbit movie. He was exactly the same, and yet so different at the same time. Plus, this cottage was almost a copy of the one from the film. Not quite, but close enough.

"Not _you_, you. But the other you. The little she-wolf." He corrected her in his rusty, nervous tone. She got the feeling that he was holding something back, not that she really cared what. As soon as she got the green light, she was getting out of here.

"There is no other me. No she-wolf, no nothing. Just me." Elle repeated slowly, staring hard into his eyes like she were talking to a child. It reminded her of dealing in the junior section of the library, trying to explain to children the importance of taking care of books. They didn't listen much, either.

"Not anymore, there's not. You've ingrained now. That's why you're here. You've joined, and will soon become one." He told her factually, flipping the sizzling omelet as he went.

"Okay," Elle raised a hand to her forehead and decided to see how playing along for a moment might go, "So say I am this little she-wolf as you seem to think. Why on earth would I have been brought in to a _fictional_ universe, with _fictional_ people and _fictional_ events, to take part in a world that was never written for me. Wouldn't that have been in the movies or something?"

"This has always been written for you!" He laughed in answer, sliding over a plate of food for her. He shot a brief warning look toward a few hedgehogs, rabbits and mice that had appeared at the smell of breakfast, as though their being here was the most normal thing in the world, before digging in to his own. "I don't know what these _movies_ are that you speak of, but Elle, this has been your fate since Yavanna first laid her celestial hand on you."

"_Lovely_, and who is Yavanna again?" She replied dryly, going along with his charade as she began cutting in to the omelet, keeping a close eye on a possum that was edging closer to her foot.

In any other circumstances, she might have cooed over all the wildlife creeping out of hidden nooks around the room with their arrival. As it was, she decided letting herself be distracted might be exactly what this old creep wanted.

"She is an Ainur, a holy one of the Valar. The 'Giver of Fruits'. She protects all that grows in Middle-Earth and beyond. It was she of course who plucked you from the fires of Mordor when you were born, and protected your soul by sending you to a realm far from Morgoth's influence." He spoke so fluently, so surely, that for a moment Elle almost believed him.

Cutting in to the food, Elle found the crudely cooked meal surprisingly delicious.

"And, what? Didn't have the juice to send my she-wolf soulmate with me then? Come on, dude. You gotta agree that this is sounding completely ridiculous." She said as she wolfed down a couple mouthfuls.

It was Radagast's turn to sigh heavily as he laid his cutlery to the side and matched her stare for stare, "The Valar is all powerful Elle, but no. Yavanna alone did not have... the _juice_ to send your whole form. As well as not wishing to do so, since sending a werewolf into the midst of another realm would be a ludicrous and potentially fatal decision."

Elle nearly choked on her offered clay mug of water as she took a sip, holding the sleeve of her cardigan to wipe her mouth as she laughed, "A werewolf?! Fucking great, couldn't you have thought of something a little more original? I mean really, of all the things I could've been, I get stuck with _werewolf_? Talk about drawing the short string!"

Radagast glared at her as she took another few bites of her meal, snickering about werewolves the entire time.

"What did you think I meant? That is your true form, your true self. And once the haze lifts tonight, you'll see just what I mean." He scolded her, obviously ruffled by her laughter as he stood and collected their empty plates and dishes.

"I'm sorry," She giggled, standing to help as she finished off the last of her meal, "I just really thought that you'd at least try to sound believable, y'know? I mean, the one rule about lying is to stick as close to the truth as possible. You definitely flew straight across that line with the whole werewolf thing."

Was she seriously still talking about werewolves? Fucking hell, this had to be the strangest conversation she'd ever had.

Radagast looked as if he'd like to tug his beard right off as he turned a disturbing plum shade, mumbling and cussing beneath his breath while he loaded the dishes in the already cluttered basin and left them there to grow mould like the rest of them.

Without any warning whatsoever, the fireplace that was only moments before a pile of embers suddenly sprang to roaring life and spat out with a huff a curled and charred piece of parchment.

Elle shrieked and almost fell backwards in her struggle to escape the flames, patting at the smoking end of her cardigan as she fought the urge to throw herself onto the floor and scream until the crazy man let her go.

Radagast tottered forward, a grim set to his mouth as he captured the letter and read the message inside.

The old man was completely oblivious to Elle's wide-eyed stare, her lips hanging open in shock, sputtering to say something._ What just happened?_

Tossing it back into the fire only seconds later, he turned to her and said, "Whether you believe me or not, it does not matter. We must leave at once if we are to reach The Prancing Pony in time. Gandalf has sent me an exact hour of arrival and we cannot possibly miss them."

"Oh of course it was _Gandalf_, right." Elle swallowed, rolling her eyes as she fought for composure, "Forgot you two were best buddies. Well, we'd better get moving then. Gotta do what the magical piece of paper says."

Damn, he must've been planning this kidnapping for ages to get the fireplace rigged for that little trick. He might be good, but she was determined to be better.

At any rate, leaving this dilapidated little hut would get her closer to civilisation and a definite way out. She just had to stick it out until they got into town, and she could ditch the old fella for someone with half a brain.

"You really are adamant to deny your birthright, aren't you?" Radagast queried as he flicked the staff in his hands and had two plain brown packs materialise at his feet, "Even when magic is performed before your very eyes. How queer, humans from your world must be very dull."

Elle blubbered and fought for an explanation, not even daring to believe her eyes.

Come on, brain_. Anything!_

When nothing of value came up, and her head felt like it was swimming under a gallon of vodka, Elle met his laughing grey eyes with the barest of whimpers, and promptly fainted unceremoniously back onto her chair.

* * *

**Poor Elle, just can't handle a bit of magic!**

**Again, I cannot express how much I appreciate you all! I really hope you enjoyed the chap, let me know what you liked/disliked about it and all that. Next chapter will start to become a lot more adventurous, and a lil longer, too. Expect it in the next week! **

**No Legolas for now :( Soon, my pretties. Gotta build it up, and I didn't want her immediately stumbling on the group. I want you all to get to know _her_ a bit more first.**

**Until next time, **

**\- T **

**xo**


	3. The Road To El Dorado

**Hope you're all well, lovelies.**

**Here's chapter two, done and dusted.** **Fi****ngers crossed you all approve.**

**So yeah, a few things I wanna address in this chapter. First off, it's my longest yet (Woohoo!) and there's a lot of info here, most of it canon but some I've put my own twist on to go with the flow of Elle's involvement. Secondly, I really do hope the entire sequence of events was believable to you all. It's what I fight for most, to make this as realistic as possible. I tend to put myself into the situation and imagine how I might react as a human in another world, and this is what I came up with. So anyway, the ball is FINALLY rolling, and we're getting somewhere.**

**Anywho, a massive THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited Elle's journey. The support is phenomenal. **

**I really do hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it for you all!**

**With love,**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

When Elle came to, she was laying back on Radagast's cot with a cool, damp rag folded across her forehead.

She stirred, groggy and confused as she lifted herself up.

"What happened?" Elle mumbled, blinking until her eyes focused behind her glasses.

"You fainted." Radagast answered from where he was watching by a chair, "Not that I'm surprised. I would expect as much."

"B- but, _you_!" Elle clambered awkwardly to her feet, "You... I don't know what you did, but it was definitely not right!"

He chuckled, ending in a wheezing cough as he said, "Magic, m'dear. Get used to it, there's more where that came from."

"Magic?!" Elle was gaping like a goldfish, "This can't be happening. I've gone mad, that must be it. You... Radagast... The Fellowship... You're not real!"

"I am very real, Elle." Radagast's tone was serious as he stood, "This entire world is real. This is where you belong. Not the realm you came from, it's here you were born and here you were always meant to be."

"This is insane." She breathed, the telltale signs of hyperventilation coming on, "I'm going to wake up, and the first thing I'm doing is hauling my ass to a psychologist."

Without so much as a hint of warning, Radagast stepped forward and pinched her on the upper arm.

"Ow!" She cried out, rubbing the reddened skin, "What the hell was that for?!"

"Clearly you're not in a dream, or you wouldn't have felt that." He answered her innocently.

"No shit, Sherlock." Elle grumbled, eyeing him suspiciously.

"So..." She began after a moment of appraisal, "You... You're really Radagast the Brown?"

"I am." He answered without hesitation.

"And... We're really in Middle-Earth right now?"

"We are."

"Okay... So if you're Radagast, prove it. Turn that bowl into something." Elle pointed toward the table, her heart beating rapidly in her ears.

Radagast's moustache twitched as he quirked a small smile, his hand curling around his wooden staff as he tapped the butt end into the floor and the bowl in question began sprouting branches and leaves.

Elle stood, her mouth hanging open and eyes not even daring to blink, until all that was left in the bowl's place was a small shrub planted into the table, dotted with tiny white flowers.

"Fuck." She exhaled in a huff, limbs hanging by her sides and feeling oddly numb, tingling and disjointed as if she were floating. Her mind buzzed vaguely in response.

"Now do you believe me?" Radagast turned to her proudly, arms crossed.

"Um... Yeah, well... Maybe." Elle breathed in, finally snapping out of her daze as she locked on to his eyes, "You're very convincing."

Radagast barked a nervous laugh, "Well, we don't have a lot of time. As much as I'd love to ease you into all of this, we really must be leaving. We're losing valuable daylight by the minute."

"Leaving to go meet up with the Fellowship, right... And, um, is that far or...?"

Gods, she had no idea what she was doing. This was the most ridiculously unbelievable situation she'd ever been in. That _anyone_ had ever been in.

She was... She was in Middle-Earth.

As much as she'd love to deny everything she'd just seen, she wasn't that kind of person. Reading as much as she did, she'd never be the type who was that blatantly ignorant. There was too much evidence suggesting that this man, honest to god _Radagast_, was telling the absolute truth.

She could see it in his eyes, in his voice, and in the bowl he'd just magically turned into a plant.

Go figure.

"It's a days ride from here, I made sure to never be too far. Just far enough so you wouldn't terrorise the towns at night. The hobbits have already left the Shire, so we'll meet up with them tonight." He said as he handed her one of the conjured packs, "Put that on. You'll need it."

"Right. The whole werewolf thing... Is that real too then?" Her voice was oddly high-pitched. Close to breaking.

"It is." Radagast replied offhandedly as he pulled on his own pack and cloak, "I'm afraid I don't have any change of attire for a lady here, but those should do for the while."

"That's alright," Elle drew in another shaky breath, "I'll manage."

_In more ways than one_, she thought, what with everything being thrown at her at once.

So she was stuck in Middle-Earth, with the eccentric Radagast the Brown, and off to Bree to meet up with Gandalf and the Fellowship. Makes sense.

But, Gandalf... He never makes it there in time. It's the Ranger, Aragorn, who leads the Ring-Bearer to Rivendell.

"Gandalf won't be there." Elle spoke up suddenly, her voice a lot firmer than it had been before.

"What do you mean, girl?" Radagast queried from the door, placing his hat upon his head.

"He won't be there. He never makes it. It's Aragorn who takes the hobbits to Rivendell." She repeated, walking forward with more confidence.

Was she really talking about Aragorn right now, as if he were an actual person?! She would kill for a stiff drink right about now.

"What- Pardon me? How do you know of this?" Radagast reminded her of a cornered rabbit when he was flustered.

"Because I've read it. I've seen it. In my world, this land and this story is a set of books and films. It's _fiction_. Entertainment. Why do you think I'm finding this all so hard to believe? And it's also why I recognised you." She informed him, "Gandalf is delayed, because Saruman betrays him."

If she had looked spooked before, it was nothing compared to the stunned look of terror that flittered across Radagast's face.

"N- no! Saruman would _never_ do that to us! He's on our side." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Elle would've been smug with how the tables had turned, if the topic of conversation hadn't been such a dire one. And if Radagast hadn't been shaking like a leaf with the very idea of such a betrayal.

"Whoa, calm down," She assuaged him, "He does betray Gandalf, and imprisons him. But it's all good dude, Gandalf breaks free with the help of the eagles and meets up with everyone at Rivendell. It's for the best, what with the info from the dark side he gets."

Her attempt at reassurance only managed to get Radagast even more riled up as he began to pace, gnawing on his bottom lip like a frenzied beaver, "If Saruman betrays Gandalf, I _must_ warn him before it's too late. I must help him!"

"You can't!" Elle stopped him before the little wizard hurried undermanned and with no plan straight into Isengard's clutches, "You'll mess up the natural order of things, or whatever. Gandalf has to be betrayed and he has to be captured. It's for the greater good, plus it totally helps with character development."

Radagast stopped pacing, taking in a shuddering breath and visibly counting to ten. Elle stood watching with raised brows, hiding her laughter behind a straight face.

"Okay," He said when he finally came to, "You're right. Natural order, of course. What the Valar has planned will come to pass in the exact way it should."

Elle nodded exaggeratedly as she steered the old wizard toward the door, "Yeah, see. No harm, no foul. Just be calm, okay? We can't have two people inebriated by panic attacks, now can we?"

"No, no. Of course not..." Radagast muttered along as she opened the door and took him outside.

Jeez, thank god she hadn't said anything about the two wizard's battle and Gandalf's injuries. The poor man might've fainted, too.

He stepped back and took a deep breath, adjusting the cloak at his neck as he said anxiously, "Books, you say? How strange... From now on Elle, it might be best if you keep your knowledge of this land to yourself. I was not at all aware that you'd be privy to that sort of information, but perhaps it is for the best. This could be the leg up we need to win this war.

"However... Mayhap don't go around advertising upcoming events unless absolutely necessary. Not everyone is as aware as I am for the need to a planned celestial order."

Elle laughed, though there was no humour in it, "Trust me, after that I will _definitely_ pick and choose to who and what I tell."

"Wonderful." He smiled, though his eyes were still shadowed and troubled with doubt.

"So... I guess, um... Shall we?" Elle asked, a reluctant set to her features as she gestured out from the porch.

"Oh, yes! Yes, at once." Radagast snapped to it, his mind once more focused on the plan ahead as he led her down and around the side of the house.

A twisted, wooden sled sat abandoned and almost hidden within the bushes, an almost exact replica of the one from the film.

_Well_, Elle corrected herself, _technically it's the original._

"And now comes the Rhosgobel Rabbits." She predicted, watching in wonder as Radagast let out a low whistle and the thumping of at least a dozen little paws resounded throughout the forest, growing louder until the infamous little animals bounded out into the open, twitching ears and all.

In person, they were even larger than she'd imagined with massive back feet and the most adorable yet strangely intelligent faces. She had to forcibly resist picking up the nearest one and giving it a cuddle.

"Am I ever going to get back home?" Elle asked suddenly as Radagast hefted the sled out of it's spot in the bushes.

Radagast turned back nervously, "Err, um... I don't actually know."

Elle breathed in deeply, uneasiness crawling through her veins.

"B- but, I'm sure if there is a way, the best thing to do would be to follow along for whatever reason you're here in the first place!" He assured her, turning back to his work.

So, no going back. She was stuck here, at least for now. She should have been frightened. Screaming, crying, refusing to move. For some reason, she felt oddly calm and at ease with the situation. Almost as if she wasn't all that surprised being here, which couldn't be the truth. Rationally, this was the biggest shock anyone could ever experience.

"If only the girls at the library could see me now." Elle muttered to herself, an odd sense of elation building in her chest. She hadn't expected that, but again she wasn't all that startled by the realisation.

This was a chance of a lifetime, not to mention a dream come true. It's not like she had anything going for her back home. She had had so many foster parents growing up, she didn't count anyone as actual _family_, coupled with a very limited selection of acquaintances and no intimate relationships whatsoever since she'd left high school. The only thing that had ever held her to that life was Angie, and it'd been almost two years since she had died.

The thought brought her back to that night, and Elle rubbed her arms through her coat for warmth as chilling realisation struck her.

It had been during one of their annual camping trips, just the usual girly stuff, and Elle had suffered from one of her episodic blackouts. It had been the first and only time it'd happened in the company of someone else, and when she'd woken up, it was to find her best friend and their tent ripped to shreds, and herself covered in blood.

At the time, Elle had screamed her head off thinking it'd been her, that she'd murdered her friend unknowingly in her sleep. But then the police had spent hours assuring her it wasn't possible, that Angie had been violated as well, and when they'd found the two dead men in the river later that day it had all made a lot more sense.

After all, they had stupidly been camping outside of the recommended zones, of which they weren't in the least bit familiar with. And Angie had been prone to late-night swims since they were kids. What had gotten everyone's attention, though, was the fact that the men had been mauled and torn apart by something much, _much_ bigger.

Nobody had known what it was, the most likely being a pack of dingoes, but even that was so far fetched nobody had really bought it. The teeth marks were huge, the damage something a mere dingo could never surpass.

The detective said it looked to have been a wolf. The marks matched, albeit being three times the size. But this was Australia, and wolves weren't in the wild here.

Now Elle finally knew.

It felt so right, ringing true in her bones. After all this time, she finally knew the truth.

The thing that had killed those men... It had been _her_.

But why?

Didn't Radagast say that the wolf was supposed to be confined to this realm? How could they have possibly crossed paths?

None of it made any sense, yet Elle felt in her heart that it was the truth. Her mind reeled with that knowledge.

The wolf... _Her_... She had tried to protect Angie.

Was that why she'd blacked out in the first place? Was this the reason she kept waking up with no memories of what she'd done? Had some part of the wolf been crossing over to her world at night?

"_Elle_? Elle!" Radagast snapped her out of her reverie, a curious look in his eyes. He'd already prepared the sled, the rabbits lining up and itching to race, "Is everything okay?"

She shrugged, wiping her face with the palms of her hands in mental exhaustion, "My entire life has changed in a matter of hours. I'm dealing."

"Well hop on behind me, girl. Unfortunately we don't have a lot of room, so you'll have to just hold on to this strap." Radagast indicated a weathered piece of leather hanging from the handle bars at the front. It twisted around in a U shape with enough room for him to stand in front of it, and for her to use it as reins from behind.

"Aye, aye, Captain." Elle saluted, feeling a little silly as she clambered on behind the wizard.

_I'm going on a ride with Radagast, on a sleigh pulled by bunnies through Middle-Earth, to meet up with some hobbits._

"My life is so normal." Elle grimaced, gripping the strap between damp palms and securing her booted feet shoulder-width apart in a similar fashion to Radagast.

"What was that, dear?" He called from the front as the last of the Rhosgobel Rabbits harnessed themselves onto the pulley.

"Nothing!" Elle replied, and with a crack of Radagast's whip off they went, leaving behind only a cloud of dust and kicked up clumps of grass.

So, okay. You know how in 'The Hobbit', Radagast distracts the Orcs for the dwarves to escape by acting as decoy? And the sled just seems to glide like one crazy roller-coaster, with the wizard firmly in control and in sync with each swerve and jump?

Yeah, not so much in real life.

Well, for Elle anyway. Radagast seemed to be having the time of his life up front, if the hoots and cackles of glee were any indication. Elle on the other hand was literally using all her strength and will just to hold on.

She knew these rabbits were known for their speed, but _damn_. They were seriously fast! Like, faster than Harley's little red Mazda Mx-5, which she'd _never_ been allowed to drive but had ridden in once or twice.

She was struggling to keep the omelet down as they winded insanely between the trees, swerving at the very last second to avoid collision and leaping dangerously over fallen trees trunks and the occasional large root.

She had to stop looking. If she kept that up she'd definitely end up fainting again.

Staring resolutely at the back of the wizard's shabby leather hat, Elle willed her heart to slow down to a steady pace. After ten minutes of not having much luck, she decided to bring up her thoughts on the blackouts to distract her mind from the ride.

"Radagast?" Elle called out over the wind whistling past her ears, dragging the few escaped tendrils from her braid back from her face.

"Hm?" The wizard replied distractedly, obviously occupied with his own warring internal thoughts.

She felt bad for him, she really did. She shouldn't have dropped that bombshell earlier. If someone had told _her_ that a good friend was about to be captured by the enemy, well she probably wouldn't have been as level-headed as Radagast appeared to be about it. She could practically feel him itching to rush off to the rescue.

"I was just wondering about- about the whole wolf thing..." Elle trailed off awkwardly.

Gods, she sounded stupid right now. Wolf thing? Seriously?

"It's the truth, if that's what you're wanting to know." He replied, drawing on the reins to narrowly avoid a clump of trees.

"No, I believe you. At least, I think I do." Elle sighed, "Honestly I don't have a lot of choice, do I?"

Radagast only chuckled in response.

Elle shook her head, continuing on stubbornly, "I just wanted to know... Would it be possible for the wolf to have crossed into my world from time to time?"

Radagast glanced back in surprise, "I should hardly think so! The Valar separated you two for a reason."

"Right... Well, um, I kind of think it did. Sometimes I get these blackouts at night, and wake up outside with no memories of how I got there." Elle inhaled wearily, "I used to think I was just sleepwalking as a bi-product of a genetic disorder. But... Now I think it was the wolf."

There was no way she was going to bring up Angie just yet, though. That was hers to keep.

Radagast didn't answer immediately, though she could hear him clicking his tongue in thought, his mind working furiously to decipher this new information.

"Is that... Bad?" She questioned after a moments hesitation.

"I don't have a blasted clue." Radagast offered honestly, "I'm sorry girl, I couldn't give you a correct answer even if I tried. It's... incredibly unusual."

"But is it possible?" Elle asked, "Is it possible that it was the wolf?"

"Of course it is. Anything is possible." Radagast said.

_Anything is possible_... And damned if she didn't know it. She was living proof.

Over three hours of riding passed in silence, Elle's legs quivering and aching to hold herself up during the maddening, bumpy ride. Man, she was out of shape.

After what felt like a lifetime, Radagast finally called a short break to stretch their legs and rehydrate.

Elle took one step and almost collapsed under the weight of her jelly-like muscles, slowly hobbling over to a large root in order to sit down somewhat comfortably.

Radagast passed her a water-skin from his pack, and she took a long and much-appreciated draw. Cool, refreshing water rushed down her dry throat, a blessing to her pounding head.

"You say this Ranger, Aragorn... He takes the hobbits to Rivendell in Gandalf's place?" Radagast asked after a couple minutes from the rock he was sitting on, chewing on a piece of apple.

"Yep." Elle said, popping her lips on the letter 'p'.

She was stretched back now, her face raised to the dark green canopy above. The forest was alive with sounds. Birds flapping and cawing through the air, the smaller animals scratching at the undergrowth, while a soft breeze lifted and ruffled through the branches of the trees. It was lovely.

"It would be best if you kept your true nature to yourself then, Elle. You will tell them that Gandalf sent you in his place, and that you must escort the hobbits to Rivendell with the Ranger. I believe you will find your answers there." He said in his pitchy, rusted voice, dusting his hands from the remnants of their scant meal.

"Wait," Elle sat up in panic, "_I_ will tell them? Where will _you_ be?"

"I must journey to aid Gandalf. If what you say is correct, he will need my help."

"But-" Elle sputtered for words, "You can't! We discussed this, he needs to be captured!"

"And he will be," Radagast nodded grimly with disgust, "Though it goes against my better judgement. But tell me this Elle, how do you think Gandalf will escape?"

"The eagle saves him." She responded quickly.

"Aye, the eagle. And who sends the eagle?"

"The- the moth..." Elle stammered, unsure of what he was getting at.

"Ah, I thought so!" Radagast leaned back, smiling proudly, "And it was I who sent the moth in the first place just this morning, to send a message to Gandalf. The moth shall report back the information you've already told me, and so I must call upon the eagles for their aid. They do not come willingly just for _any_ little venture. They must be persuaded."

"So you're going to leave me?!" Elle squealed, fear creeping in.

"You will not be alone, girl." Radagast replied, his hand rubbing at his arm in agitation, "I was not expected to be your guardian forever. It was only temporary, just until you arrived."

"Are you _serious_?!" Elle shouted, standing up in her anger, "You guys pull me into this world, only to _abandon_ me?! I don't know what I'm doing here, let alone how I'm supposed to survive!"

Radagast glanced about skittishly, afraid her outburst had drawn the attention of something or some_one_ unwanted.

"Calm down, girl!" He croaked, "You will not be abandoned! The Ranger will protect you under Gandalf's name, I'm sure of it."

Fucking hell, she wasn't about to cry again was she? This day had been too long, too stressful. All Elle wanted to do was curl up in a ball, go to sleep, and never _ever_ wake up.

"Fine! Whatever, asshole. Just like my parents, aren't you? No-one ever lasts long in my company." She growled, both hands balled into fists at her sides, "We should probably get going. Don't wanna waste any more time babysitting me, now do we?"

Radagast's jaw was hanging open in shock at her words, "That's not at all what I meant, girl! I've taken care of you all your life, but both your wolf and I knew it was not to be forever. You have a purpose in this world. To stay by my side would not only hold you from it, but waste your life away."

Elle's chest was heaving unsteadily, both hands raised to support her head. This headache was quickly turning into a migraine by the feel of it, and her eyes swam with tears at the pain.

God, what was she doing? Since when did she care about this old man and his involvement in her life? She couldn't give two shits if they went their separate ways!

_So why was she crying_...?

"I just don't know what I'm doing, or what I'm feeling." She said in defeat, sitting back down on her root.

Radagast stood nervously, before shuffling over and laying a tentative hand on her shoulder. He gave her two quick pats on the back before pulling away and smiling awkwardly, "It is perfectly normal, Elle. You're integrating with the wolf, who has known me all her life. It's not only your confusion, but also some semblance of her emotions you feel. Think of it as being hooked up to a live wire, everything will be amplified."

Elle looked up, her violet eyes even more pronounced under a shining layer of tears, "Seriously? She cares for you then?"

Radagast shrugged, "In her own way. The wolves of Mordor do not think or feel as we do, but I am all she knows in this world. To all accounts I am her only kin, and she has been dependant on my guidance for quite some time. It is... flattering to know that she even minds my absence at all."

Elle let out something between a huff and a sob as she let her head drop back down, "Am I going to become a crazed, hormonal wolf then?"

Radagast chuckled, "Nay, girl. You will become what you've always known you were, deep down. I'm sure for most of your existence you've felt that a piece of you were missing. That you were only half of what you were meant to be. Like an empty vessel, waiting to be filled."

She paused, bristling at the news of this intimate knowledge.

_How did he_...? She'd never told anyone that, not even Angie. Elle looked back up into his eyes, finding only compassion in their stormy depths.

She nodded grudgingly.

"It was your wolf calling out to you. She is as much a part of you as your very limbs, yet you could not reach each other all this time. It would have been a painful existence to even contemplate..." Radagast faltered, tugging on his beard as he went on, "And I do apologise, but it was necessary. If you'd been left to grow up here, with me, even taken from the hands of evil as you were, your nature would have been swayed toward darkness. As it were, I had a hard enough time raising the she-wolf not to kill me herself. It was only your absence that placated her urges and pushed her down a different path. She has been waiting for you."

"So..." Elle whispered into her lap, "I'm evil then?"

"No!" The wizard was quick to reassure her, "You _are_ good. You know in your heart that you are. You've always had the potential to be good, all of your kin has, but they were raised in the pits of Mordor. It was a miracle Yavanna even managed to rescue you at all."

"Do I have a family then, in Mordor?" Elle swallowed, the thought sitting heavily in her stomach like dead weight.

"Aye, to a degree. There were other wolves, though they did not see themselves as family, and had no emotional bonds. They were mindless killers, bred to do the bidding of Morgoth himself." Radagast answered for her somewhat reluctantly, "Though they are dead now, Elle. Bred out slowly and killed into extinction. You are the last existing pure breed of your kind, that we know of. It is why Yavanna saved you, above all."

"And Yavanna, she's like... God? Mother Earth, or something? Why does she care what happens to me?"

"Yavanna cares what happens to all living things, good or evil. She draws no distinction. You, above all, had an opportunity to do good, to do great, and so you were given the chance to do so. Now we have a weapon of the enemy in our hands, one with light in her heart." Radagast said, his tone wiry and resolved. He sounded tired, like he'd contemplated these thoughts a thousand times before.

"But what if I don't?" Elle asked, "What if I turn evil?"

The wizard was chewing anxiously on his bottom lip, "That has always been a possibility."

She threw her hands up in frustration, "Then why are we even bothering? Why not just kill me now, and save the what-ifs?!"

Radagast knelt to sit beside her, "Because we have faith, girl. This is the Valar's will, and it shall be done. I have known the she-wolf all your life, and while her instinct is to do wrong, she fights to do good. You need only train yourself, and learn to control these urges. She will help you where she can, and you in turn will help her. You have a human nature now. Use it wisely."

Elle lamented silently, a part of her unquestioningly trustful of this man. Was that the wolf part, or the human part? She didn't know.

"I just don't want to be a monster." Elle whispered.

"And there's the difference." Radagast stood, his expression once more cheerful, "You're already far more advanced than you think."

He turned back to the sled, collecting the few wooden bowls he'd laid out for the rabbits to drink from.

"Come on then," Radagast called out to the shivering girl, "We must continue. The hour grows late."

Elle climbed aboard the sled, preparing herself once more for another jostling ride. This time she took off her cardigan and used it as a cushion, deciding to sit down behind him rather than stand. Elle clung to the strap in the crook of her elbows for a more comfortable hold before the Rhosgobel Rabbits raced off into the forest, dragging them behind like they weighed nothing at all.

"Am I going to turn into a wolf tonight?" She asked the wizard after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. Somehow he heard her over the snap and crack of dry twigs and the howling rush of air going past.

"You may, but you will be aware of every second." He answered, "I've studied intensively on this subject, Elle. Preparing for your arrival. You can control it, as long as you remain calm and level-headed. If you do not wish to change, you will not."

Elle breathed a sigh of relief, a bit of the tension in her back releasing. She had no idea she'd been holding herself so tight.

"However, if you let your emotions rule your head... You will have no choice but to bend to the she-wolf's wishes." Radagast finished off, "I suggest you begin telling yourself that it is you who is in control. Showing weakness will only let her rule you."

Of course. There was always a 'but'.

Elle gritted her teeth obstinately. Some random wolf wasn't going to get the best of her, that was for sure.

"And what about after tonight? It'll disappear again until nighttime?" She asked.

Radagast shook his head as he shouted for the rabbits to move faster, and Elle felt her stomach drop.

"The haze will have lifted. Yavanna cannot hold it forever, it was only meant to prepare your arrival and keep your sanity. The wolf will always be in your mind."

"What, like another consciousness?!" Elle felt sick.

"No, no," Radagast laughed as they leapt dangerously over an alcove in the forest floor, Elle scrambling for a better hold in fear, "You are _one_. You'll just feel... Different. Whole, complete. You will have urges Elle, primal urges. But she will be much easier to control in daylight. It's after nightfall that you must always be on your guard, until you learn to fully accept and work together."

Elle shivered again, though it wasn't from the cold.

_Urges_? Gods, what was happening to her normal, boring life as a librarian? Nothing exciting had ever happened to her. Just a whole bunch of horrible shit she'd rather not think about. She'd read about adventures before, had even dreamed she might one day have one. Never did she think it's be _within_ those books that she'd experience it.

And to think, this whole time her entire world had thought this was all a work of fiction. Elle wondered absently if J.R.R. Tolkien had come to this world once, too. It seemed plausible. How else would he have known so much about it, and so perfectly too? Of course, to know exactly what happens now it'd have to be some time in the distant, distant future here. But still.

Well, thinking about _that_ was definitely not helping her headache. Elle clenched her jaw tight and turned her mind to the journey at hand, determined in every bone of her body to be strong.

* * *

They burst through the tree-line of the forest some time after noon, the blazing sunshine a welcome reprieve from the dank, dark cover of foliage.

They'd made incredible time, all thanks to the furry little creatures now bounding about and stretching their tiny limbs after being released from their bonds. Elle felt a similar sense of satisfaction as she stretched her cramped legs, glad to be rid of the sled. It looked a lot more fun on TV than it was in real life.

Radagast appeared to be a little flustered as he adjusted his windswept hat, nervously checking up on both their packs. They'd be parting ways soon, and he seemed to be wanting to avoid the subject.

_Just in case I have another panic attack_, Elle thought to herself wryly.

The mood had passed as quickly as it had come, and she found that in reality, while she was scared to be here relatively on her own, she was a grown adult and was perfectly capable of looking after herself.

Even if she was in Middle-Earth, the quaint town of Bree would hardly bite.

She tried to recall what happened next here in the film, but was finding her memories slightly blurred. She knew the hobbits arrived at night, under some sort of duress... They went to the Prancing Pony, and it was there they were found by Aragorn. But what happened after that?

It was like clutching at water, slipping through her fingers as if she was trying to remember a dream.

"Radagast?" Elle called out in alarm, turning to him, "I can't remember what happens next!"

"Excuse me?" Radagast questioned as he trotted over from the sled.

"In the story, I can't remember what happens in Bree!" She was genuinely rattled now, and her voice pitched higher, "I remembered this morning perfectly, but now... Everything feels distant, like I dreamt it all!"

Radagast wrinkled his large nose in confusion, "Are you sure anything happens at all, girl? Mayhap you don't remember because there is nothing of import to recall?"

"No, stupid. Something _does_ happen. Something bad. I just don't know what!" She snapped, her inability to remember making her frustrated.

"Ah, well... Can you remember anything else that happens?" Radagast prodded carefully.

"I don't know," Elle keened, "My mind refuses to try."

After a couple more seconds of wracking her brain for anything at all, Elle gave up with a snarl of frustration. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands until little crescent-moons appeared, red and angry against pale skin.

"It's alright, Elle." Radagast soothed from a safe distance, palms extended outward, "Things like this are expected to happen. You must take it in good stride, don't let the anger get the best of you. Just breathe."

With these words, Elle realised she was emitting a low growling sound from the back of her throat, her eyes narrowed on the wizard. She gasped, the inhuman noise stopping instantly as she blinked at Radagast with wide, confused eyes.

She had been growling at him. Like, _literally_ growling, as if she were some dog defending it's favourite toy or something.

"I'm so sorry!" Elle cried out, crumpling before him like a wilting flower.

Radagast's heart went out to her. So much change, in such a small amount of time. She was doing better than he could ever have hoped for. The fact that she'd even realised what she was doing was something of an anomaly, and just like that she'd snapped out of it. As if it were nothing! Yavanna had done well in choosing this one.

"Don't apologise, girl. It's your nature, and perfectly normal." He said, though she could sense that his normally quite skittish demeanour had increased tenfold.

"But I was _growling_ at you. I thought you said nothing would happen until tonight?" Elle asked, embarrassed. So she really _was_ turning into a wolf... Or some semblance of it, anyway. She had no idea where that had come from, but in that instant she'd felt powerful for the first time in her life.

Now all she felt was fear.

"Your wolf must be stronger than I thought. But it doesn't matter, you settled her in the end. And if that little episode told me anything, I am now more confident than ever that you will have rein over your wolf." The wizard confirmed for her, coming forward to take her arm and pat her hand gently.

It was so strange to think that just this morning she'd woken up in a cave, thinking she was about to become this old man's dinner. And now here she was, in Middle-Earth, going on a journey with him like they were old friends.

Elle couldn't really explain her trust for him. The closest she could get was knowing that he was the first and only person she knew here and without him, she was very likely to fall flat on her arse.

That and the whole wolf thing. That probably had something to do with it.

"Come on, girl. We're a good two hours early. I can use this time to escort you properly into Bree." He smiled, easing her concerns.

"It's _Elle_." She reminded him, taking her arm out his hold before attempting a smile back. Though, considering the circumstances, it came out as something of a grimace.

It was a short thirty minute walk from here to Bree, the town not far from the forest's edge. Elle spent the leisurely stroll constantly pestering herself and Radagast on where her memories had gone, pulling at straws in a weak bid to extract the story from her mind.

The more she thought on it, the foggier it became, until she couldn't even remember what Rivendell looked like anymore.

Radagast finally convinced her to let it go, that in time her memories might return. In any case, he'd told her, everything happens for a reason. There was probably some higher power blocking what could potentially harm the outcome of the Fellowship, until the information could do no harm.

Elle thought that that particular theory was a bunch of crap, and had proceeded to tell him so until she'd been interrupted by a wagon passing them loudly on the road.

She'd looked up, her eyes following the docile mule, only to find the imposing gate of Bree standing proudly before them. A barrage against unwanted visitors at night, but held open for all to pass through during the less-troublesome day.

"_Wow_." Elle hushed as they stepped through the wooden gate, "So this is Bree."

Everything suddenly felt so very real. There was a part of her this entire time that had truly doubted all that was happening, disbelieving of these extraordinary events, and thinking she'd probably wake up soon.

Now, there just wasn't any room for anything _but_ belief.

Elle felt her stomach contract, doing flip-flops in excitement. She was _really_ in Bree, and she was _really_ going to see the Fellowship of the Ring. Amazing.

It looked different during the day. The houses were cramped, with barely (_if any_) space between them, and constructed of wood and stone. The main dirt road went straight through, a dusty brown against the coarse grey buildings.

The town was bustling with activity, carts going in and out, crowds of people shouting their wares and going about their business. The vast majority of citizens were dressed in varying shades of brown, and Elle quickly realised that she was sticking out like a sore thumb.

Dressed in the same white shirt she'd gone to work in, now dusty and in desperate need of a wash after their ride, her favourite shredded boyfriend jeans, boots and a patterned, over-sized cardigan, she might as well have been a bright pink flamingo amidst a flock of pigeons.

"Um, Radagast?" Elle spoke up as they made their way through the crowd.

"Yes, m'dear?" He answered light heartedly.

"Everyone is staring at me."

And they were. Just about every individual she passed turned to do a double-take, unsure of what exactly they were looking at. Radagast slowed down from his motoring pace, noticing the curious stares they were attracting.

"Ah." He said, "That's unfortunate."

Elle chuckled weakly, pulling the end of her cardigan out from the inquisitive fingers of a child that had strayed too close. She looked around, blinking rapidly as more people gathered to see her strange attire.

"We should move indoors." Radagast decided, before Elle stopped him with a hand to his sleeve.

"Um, maybe we should get me a change of clothes first?" She said, pointing toward a dress-shop not three feet away.

Radagast nodded, "Oh, yes! Silly me, right this way then."

The shop door tinkled as they stepped inside, a few more tenacious onlookers trailing behind to watch through the murky glass windows.

The shop was small and plain, with very few accents bar the wares hanging from wooden racks throughout the room. Elle looked to Radagast for guidance, who was looking back at her just as expectantly.

"You don't really expect me to know what the hell any of this is, do you?" She asked after he continued to stare blankly in her direction.

Radagast stammered uncomfortably, before Elle rolled her eyes in dismissal.

"Men. They're the bloody same in every dimension."

Elle approached the front of the shop slowly, one hand running over frilly undergarments she didn't understand, and thick woollen skirts that fell in heavy layers to the floor. Was this seriously what women wore in this age? Talk about restrictive.

"May I help you?" A voice called out from a door behind the counter, before a woman not much older than Elle stepped into the room with a welcoming smile. She faltered slightly when appraising her customer's foreign attire, before the smile was back in place and her eyes snapped up to meet Elle's.

"Uh, yes. I'd like an entire set of clothes, please." Elle figured that'd be a decent start, keeping one eye fixed on the whereabouts of the wizard the entire time. She had to stifle a giggle as she watched him investigate the workings of a corset, his face a mixture of distaste and puzzlement.

The woman seemed ecstatic at her revelation as she excitedly began to chatter, "An entire set? Cor, that's wonderful! You've come to the right place, miss. We've got everything you could ever need here."

Elle smiled back, "Cool, so how do we do this?"

"Cool? Shall we start with a cloak, miss? Are you under the weather?"

"Ahh, no." Elle corrected hastily, "Sorry, I meant that that sounds great. I just need an outfit that's a little more understated, yet lightweight and flexible."

The woman smiled in understanding, "Of course. Do you have a preference for colour? We have shades in grey, brown, green, blue..."

The list went on, and a half hour later Elle was decked out in her brand new gear, courtesy of Radagast. She thanked the wizard profusely, surprised he'd be so generous as to do something like that for her. Normally she'd have declined the help, but since the shop assistant had just stared at Elle as if she'd grown a second head when confronted with an Australian fifty dollar note, she didn't have much choice. In any case, Elle found the new clothing surprisingly comfortable and flattering.

The woman had fitted her into a white muslin tunic with a ruffled neckline and long, tight-fitting sleeves to her wrists. The tunic cinched in tightly at the waist, before billowing down in a threadbare skirt to her ankles. To complete the dress the woman had paired it with a thin, russet-coloured kirtle with a modest, square neckline, the lace top of the tunic skirting out along the edge and exposing a generous portion of collarbone.

The double-layered skirt was incredibly airy, much to her surprise, and the bodice not at all bulky as she would have imagined. It was laced at the back with ribbon to pull her waist in and her breasts out.

And to be honest, she looked good. Who knew she had such a tiny waist under all those baggy clothes?

Elle kept her point-toed boots as is, clipping a dark brown, hooded cloak at her neck and shouldering her pack after stuffing her normal clothes inside. She'd opted to keep her own bra and underwear on after the woman dutifully had them cleaned during Elle's fitting, not even bothering to look into the Medieval-style knickers.

The shop assistant was enthralled with the workings of her "unusual undergarments". Obviously her white, lace push-up bra and matching boy shorts wasn't the common go-to look around here, as they were in the 21st Century.

Elle could have stayed in there trying on clothes all day, had it not been for Radagast's obvious impatience and harassing to move on.

"We don't have all day, girl. It's just a darn dress, let's get on now." He ushered her out, Elle waving a cheeky goodbye to the server inside.

She pouted as they stepped back into the street, "Dude, it's not even dark yet. Frodo won't be here for ages."

"My name is not _dude_," The wizard scolded, "And if you want Gandalf to be rescued on time, I suggest you let me set you up at the inn and be on my way. We haven't a lot of light left."

"_Right_, fine. Whatever." Elle grumbled, though she didn't really mind. Each time she wondered at her irate annoyance with anything Radagast said or did in relation to his leaving, Elle mentally had to remind herself that it was normal. It wasn't her feelings, it was the wolf.

The town of Bree wasn't a particularly large place, but with its maze of winding alleys and crooked streets, it took them a few tries to locate the Prancing Pony.

In the end Elle had asked a few nicer-looking folk for directions, and they'd been more than happy to oblige.

Turned out it wasn't far from the dress-shop they'd started at, and that they must've passed it somewhere shortly after. The sun was just now beginning to set and a low, thick bank of clouds were steadily moving closer.

"This is where I leave you, girl. I don't have a lot of time, and it'll take a few days to get to the eagles. Plus a few days more to convince them of their need." Radagast explained, worried she'd throw another tantrum.

Elle smiled gently, reassuring the wizard with a stiff pat to his shoulder.

"It's okay, mate," She said, "I'll be fine. Just gotta wait for the four little people to show up, and then that's my queue."

"Precisely." Radagast beamed, appeased that he would not be leaving her in tears.

Elle was still finding it hard to believe where she was and who she was with. She'd always liked the silly old wizard from the films, and on meeting him had found she'd only grown fonder of his eccentric, awkward antics.

He turned and rummaged in his pack before offering her a small draw-string purse. It jangled as she took it, feeling with surprise the heavy weight of coins within.

"It isn't a fortune," He laughed nervously, "But it's enough to survive on for a few months."

"Wow... Thank you, Radagast." Elle felt truly moved by the gesture, and caught up in the moment she leant forward and planted a small peck on his cheek.

Radagast blushed a thousand shades of red, his eyes darting about as if he were unsure if he should smile or run away. The shock was evident.

Elle tilted her head apologetically, "Looks like you weren't quite the homeless, psycho-kidnapper I thought you to be, after all. Sorry about that."

"No harm done." The agitated wizard shrugged his weathered shoulders.

"Still... Thank you. For everything you've done for me, and the wolf. I'm sure it, uhh, appreciates the help too." Elle finished with an awkward half smile.

Radagast chuckled weakly in response, the blush on his cheeks fading to a ruddy pink. "You must remember, Elle. The haze _will_ lift at nightfall. _Please_ be ready, and stay in control. You will have urges, and you will feel different. Be prepared for anything."

"I know, I get it. No kicko, no fighto." Elle said in understanding, though she really wasn't sure what to expect. The thought frightened her, but she pushed it aside for later.

"Looks like rain." Radagast muttered suddenly in disapproval as he spied the unsightly black streak across the horizon.

"It is rain," Elle told him, a broad smile peeling across her face as she remembered that much, "The hobbits arrive after it hits."

"About three and a half hours, then." Radagast sniffed, holding the door to the tavern open for her.

"Three _hours_?! Of doing what?" She complained, actually expecting an answer as she wedged her foot in the door and turned back to him.

"Get a room, have a meal and a drink, wash up? Whatever it is you ladies do these days." Radagast offered, shouldering his pack.

Elle rolled her eyes and repeated like before, "Aye, aye, Captain."

"And, Elle?" Radagast called as she turned to go. Elle glanced back, a questioning look on her face.

"Be good, _please_."

Elle scoffed, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, "Oh come on, am I ever anything but?"

"Goodbye, Elle." Radagast chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

She watched as he hurried into the dispersing crowd, disappearing down the next street with a swish of his cloak.

Elle took a deep breath and lifted her skirts to step inside, the fabric weightless and delicate in her hands. Just as she'd asked. This muslin stuff, she liked. She'd been expecting stiff, weighty fabrics of velvet and tulle. This was much better.

She was so busy looking down at her prettily gathered skirts, she didn't even notice as she walked straight in and bumped directly into someone's back.

"_Oomph_!" Elle cried out, losing her balance just as a strong arm caught her around the waist.

"Watch where y'goin!" Her victim yelped as he jostled forward, spilling his drink and casting her a disgruntled glance before turning back to his friend.

But Elle wasn't paying much attention.

She was staring up in shock into the amused green eyes of the Ranger, Aragorn. Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, and the rightful heir to Isildur's throne.

Oh, and he had his arms around her waist. Elle Roberts, librarian and spinster, was in the arms of the King of Gondor.

It was just her luck that she hadn't showered in two days, and probably smelt like it, too.

* * *

**Oh yeah, _Aragorn baby_! **

**Our Elle is finally in the thick of things, and WHAT?! Losing her MEMORIES?! The gall! I figured it'd be annoying and boring if she knew everything that happened, plus after the Gandalf-info incident and spoiler alert fiasco, the Valar would probably wanna dull her memories of Middle-Earth. No, they're not gone, and she will recall bits and pieces and more throughout time!**

**Kirtle: It's a dress type thing that went over tunics for women. Just google image it if that explanation was as terrible as I think it is!**

**So, a bit more info on the mysterious Angie, a bit more on Wolfie-Elle. **

**Poor, poor Elle. Idk how I'd feel if I found out I was born to be evil. Also guys, pretty please remember to review, favourite and follow! It's like candy to us writers!**

**Next chapter we see what happens to Elle once the haze lifts...**

**Anyhow, back to writing I go!**

**\- T**

**xo**


	4. Tall Tales And Tiny Men

**WELCOME to all our newcomers, and WELCOME BACK to those following along.**

**This chapter was a bit of a struggle for me, deciding how I should lift the haze and what exactly should happen to her. Should she change right away, or should this be a slow progress over time? **

**I ended up basing my decision on not wanting to steal thunder from the original plot as it's JUST SO DAMN GOOD, and the reason we're all here to begin with. That and the plot would quickly become way too convoluted, and a bitch to read. Too much would be going on! **

**Anywho enough rambling, read on and find out...**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

"I- I'm- I'm _so_ sorry!" Elle stammered, looking up into Aragorn's face and wracking her brain for something intelligent to say. When all that came out was a mess of garbled mumbling, she opted for falling silent.

_Smooth, Elle. Real smooth._

"No need to apologise, my Lady." Aragorn assured her in his gentle timbre, "T'was not any hardship on my part."

She continued to stare up at him like a lost puppy, marvelling over how _real_ he looked. The shoulder-length black hair, the roguish stubble, the cleft chin...

Elle mentally shook herself. He _was_ real, Einstein.

She hadn't yet realised she was still just staring at him, his own eyes watching her with one dark brow cocked questioningly and an amused smile tugging at his lips.

"Are you alright?" He asked after a moment, encouraging her to speak up.

"Oh!" Elle scrambled from his hold and straightened her dress demurely, "Yeah, totally. Um, I mean... I am _very_ well sir, _thank_ you."

Whoever said she was lacking in finesse, right?

Okay, so her attempt at speaking proper ended up sounding more like a strangled cat than she'd have liked, but who was she to blame? She had no fucking _idea_ what she was doing, or what was supposed to happen next. Did she introduce herself now, or wait until the hobbits arrive?

As it turned out, Aragorn answered the question for her by offering her a kind smile and continuing on into the inn without a look back, flicking his hood on as he went.

Right.

_Okay_... So what did Radagast say she do now?

Get a room, eat some food, wash up. On it.

The Prancing Pony smelt vaguely of stale beer and sweat, but Elle kept her head held high as she wandered into the inn, pretending as if her being there was completely normal and that she wasn't totally shook up after meeting the Ranger.

It would have worked a hell of a lot better if she hadn't been the only woman in the room, instead engaging the eyes of far too many leering male patrons.

Fucking hell, it was like throwing a chip to a flock of seagulls.

Elle ducked around one of the burlier men who'd approached to talk to her, acting as though she hadn't noticed as she hurried to the bar without a second glance.

"Excuse me," Elle said breathlessly as she caught the eye of the chubby-faced innkeeper, "I'd like to rent a room for the night, please."

The man looked shocked just to see her here in his tavern, let alone asking for a room for the night, but he was quick to disguise his surprise with a beaming smile. He wasn't one to turn away business.

"Of course, m'Lady! We have lovely rooms for a woman of substance here, complete with your own wash tub and looking-glass. Any preferences?" He answered good-naturedly, his hands folded over his distended pot belly.

"Sure, um, somewhere near the top?"

The innkeeper handed over a key printed with a small number 7 in exchange for three of the silver coins in her purse, a jolly smile on his face as he gestured toward an obscure set of wooden stairs disappearing behind a brick wall.

"I'll send in a maid to bring ye a nice warm meal and t'help ye with ye bath, m'Lady." He told her, hopeful that the presence of a proper Lady might increase his future clientele.

Elle went to refuse the offer, but stopped herself at the last second. It would look strange, a woman refusing the service of a maid in this era. Plus she was dying to have a decent feed and thorough wash.

"Thanks, man." She replied instead with a wave, missing the innkeeper's weird look as she hurried toward the stairs. She had to be the strangest gentry he'd ever met, but she carried herself well and was dressed in fine clothes. That was enough for him.

Elle took the stairs two at a time to make sure no one was following her, glancing back every now and then. She locked the door to her room securely behind her, pocketing the key in her bra as she turned to survey the inn's boudoir.

You never know. Medieval dudes can be creeps, too.

The room was nice and quaint, with tall windows of stained glass and a small, unlit fireplace against one wall. The bed was a double, with a quilted doona and a large wooden headboard. The only other furnishings were the small set of drawers by the door, a basin on the top and a mirror hanging above.

If you could call it a mirror, anyway. It was pretty much just a polished slab of metal bolted to the wall.

"I'm in Bree, I just met Aragorn, and now I'm staying at the Prancing Pony..." Elle whispered and stepped forward slowly, as though she were afraid any sudden movement might wake her from this beautiful dream.

"I'm in _Bree_, I just met _Aragorn_, and I'm staying at the _Prancing Pony_!" Elle's voice pitched higher until she ended in an ecstatic scream, jumping forward to throw herself on the bed with a bubbling laugh.

Her happiness was interrupted by a sudden knock against the door, and she sat up with ruffled, messy hair to call out, "Who is it?"

"It's May, m'Lady. I'm here to help you bathe." A small, female voice called back.

Elle trodded to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open for the woman.

Or, girl. Since the maid didn't look to be any older than fifteen.

The girl, May, stepped in with a covered tray in hand and a polite smile as two boys followed with a metal tub behind her. The thing was definitely rustic, like something from a Jane Austen film.

Elle sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the meal May had provided her with as she watched them fill the tub with pitchers of boiled water. The tray consisted mainly of meat, bread and a few sides of vegetables. Being a vegetarian, she ignored most of it.

It took two more trips for them to completely fill it with steaming water, and Elle began to appreciate just how lucky she was to have spent most of her life with an automated shower.

"Thanks guys." Elle said to the two men who turned to leave, handing them each one of the smaller, bronze coins from her purse.

Elle held the door open, waiting for May to leave, too. Who, by the looks of it, didn't understand that that was her queue.

"Um, can I have some privacy?" Elle asked after a moment, indicating with her eyes for the maid to leave.

She looked taken aback.

"Do I displease you?" May asked, her lip trembling under the unintended insult.

Elle's eyes widened, realising her mistake. Well, shit. How was she to remember that in Middle-Earth, women weren't allowed to undress themselves? It was a bit pervy, if you asked her.

"No!" Elle was quick to correct herself, "Sorry, that's not what I meant. I just prefer to wash myself, that's all. You haven't displeased me."

The maid visibly relaxed, though her eyes remained unsure as she took the few steps to the door, "Shall I wait here for you, m'Lady?"

"Uhh, no." Elle wrinkled her nose, "That's so not necessary. And my name is just Elle, not m'Lady."

The maid furrowed her brows in thought, "But you look like a Lady."

"I'm not." Elle's tone was irrefutable, "Trust me."

She left after that, confusion written across her face as Elle handed her a tip as well. Elle didn't care though, her eyes greedily drinking in the bath left by the newly lit fire.

Ah, heaven! She still had two hours before the hobbits arrived.

Two hours of relaxation. And contemplation, too, if her stupid mind had it's way. Which is what it usually did, but oh well.

Elle tugged off her boots first, throwing them against the wall in her rush to be rid of them. It was only when she began scrabbling behind her back for the ties to her dress that she realised having the maid here might not have been such a bad idea. It took her a good ten minutes to finally undress herself, stretching her poor arms to the limit as she unlaced the woven backing.

When she was finally free and under, Elle went to work on her mistreated skin. She scrubbed at the dirt with the bar of soap May had left behind until she was pink and glistening, even managing to clean out under her nails and all.

This was one of those moments that Elle thanked her lucky stars she genetically could not grow body hair, her skin just as baby smooth as the day she'd been born. It would have been a drama and a half if she had to deal with hairy legs on top of everything else.

Next she undid her braid, washing her long hair thoroughly until she was satisfied she'd gotten rid of all the sweat and dirt of travelling. Elle spent the next half hour soaking in the tub, her legs sticking out the end as she laid back with her head almost fully submerged.

The water had been scented with something akin to cinnamon and lavender, and she found herself drifting off sleepily to the sounds of horse-drawn traffic outside.

When Elle next came to, it was to find that nightfall had descended upon Bree and that the tub she was laying in had gone ice cold. Rain was pounding against the windows of the small room, the view of the town obscured by the storm.

"Oh, shit!" Elle stood in one swift movement, spraying the wooden floor with water as she snatched up what she supposed was the Middle-Earth version of a towel. It was a dressing robe, much like her one at home. Though this one was white, thicker, and made from a woven fabric similar to a towel.

Fuck, how long had she been asleep?! She hadn't missed the hobbits, had she?! _Fuckity, fuck, fuck!_

Elle hastened to dry herself off, thankful for the crackling fire lending her that much needed warmth. She had to get down to the tavern and see what had transpired since she'd fallen asleep, pronto.

She paused halfway through her frenzied ministrations, realising she couldn't see properly. Everything was blurred and misshapen, but she was wearing her glasses. Elle doubled checked, just to make sure, before taking them off to clean the lenses. Obviously they'd just gotten fogged up, or something.

The second she removed them, her eyes focused instantly and perfectly on every detail in the room.

She could _see_.

And not just see, but even make out the tiny detailing of the wainscotting along the walls, the mould growing in one corner by the basin, and each and every splinter of wood within the burning flames.

Elle looked out in shock, able to easily count each tile of the opposite buildings roof, and the one after that, and the one after that, despite the distance and the heavy thrum of near-impenetrable rain.

_What the fuck_...?

And then the smells hit, assaulting her nose unrelentingly. The earthy pull of the rain, the musky odour of the quilt... It was all too much.

Elle's breathing hitched up in panic, her wet feet padding backwards across the floorboards until her naked back hit the wall. She felt cornered, and terrified, and... _strong_.

A desperate whine passed her lips, and Elle clamped her hand over her mouth.

Oh, my god. That was _not_ human.

She was... _Fuck_.

She was a monster.

Everything Radagast had told her to do flew out the window, and Elle began hyperventilating like nothing before. Her hand clutched frantically at her throat, desperate for air as the room filled with the warning sounds of a deep and panicked growl.

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

Elle repeated the mantra in her head, her desperation growing as she fought to stay calm.

She bristled suddenly, running to the mirror to view her reflection. The hysterical girl staring back looked wild, albeit relatively the same.

Except for her eyes. They were somehow brighter, a feral glint to their violet depths.

Elle felt her body roll, from her toes to her fingers, and bared her normally straight, white teeth just in time to watch her canines elongate into pointed fangs.

She snarled, disgusted with herself as she swiped a hand across the drawer top and tossed the basin and ewer against the wall like they were nothing. They shattered into pieces with Elle none the wiser, tears streaking down her face in frustration and fear.

_Rip, bite, kill..._

They were her thoughts, but they weren't _her_ thoughts. Elle felt like she was being dragged in two entirely different directions, sure she was about to split in two at any second.

She clamped a hand to each side of her head, fighting against the sudden onslaught of cravings. It was like one irresistible compulsion, egging her on.

Hungry, _so_ hungry...

Elle could smell the man one room over.

She could practically _hear_ his heart beating to a steady rhythm within his chest, fresh blood pulsing tantalisingly through his veins. And gods, all she wanted to do was kill him, and bask, glorified, in his death.

She breathed in deeply, a moan rolling off her tongue. He smelt strong, youthful, _perfect_...

Elle stepped forward, her manicured nails lengthening into sharpened claws as she laid a hand on the brass doorknob. She twisted her neck, shaking her head in confusion. She was so hungry... And the human smelt _so_ good...

Wait, when did _they_ become human and _she_ did not?!

Repulsed by those thoughts and disgusted with herself, Elle tore herself away from the door.

"No!" She roared out in one inhuman snarl, gritting her teeth until the pointed ends drew blood from her tongue, the sharp sting of pain increasing her dwindling awareness, "I will _NOT_!"

And just like that, it was over.

That one command, and those feelings retreated like a scolded kitten to the inner workings of her mind. Sure, they were still there. She could feel them lurking in the back of her head, but they were subdued.

She would _not_ be evil. She would _not_ kill.

She was good...

Elle steadied herself by the bed, taking a deep breath in.

_She was good._

Her chest hadn't stopped heaving, her heart fluttering rapidly within like a caged bird. On the one hand she was terrified, coming apart at the seams. The other... She felt better than she had ever felt before.

Her limbs thrummed with barely concealed power, her gaze sharp and discerning and ears trained on every tiny movement and sound. She felt... entirely complete. Like nothing was amiss with the world, that she hadn't a care at all. She was exactly where she was always meant to be.

But how could something so _wrong_ feel so damn right?

This is what had been missing all her life, and she just hadn't even noticed. And now that it was unleashed, she felt wild and free and in control for once in her life.

She felt like she could do anything.

Had this been some kind of test, or something? Is that why the sudden urges had died? Was it a show of dominance, or something more...?

A trick, to let her guard down? She honestly didn't know, and was too exhausted and drained to think about it now. The one thing that mattered was that the wolf had backed off, for now, and that she needed to find the hobbits before it was too late.

The thought brought her back to the present, and Elle jumped straight into the task ahead. One thing at a time.

So many questions whirled inside her mind as she bent to pick up her discarded clothing. Elle flexed a hand, watching as her painted blue nails slunk back to their former state.

She should be scared. Hell, she should be terrified. But all she really found at this point was an idle sense of calm. She was relieved.

But was that her, or was that the she-wolf?

Elle shook her head. She had to stop calling it that. It was... It was _her_ now. They were no longer separated. Just as Radagast said, they were one. And gods, how she wished the eccentric wizard were here right now to console her, and tell her everything she was feeling was normal and okay.

Her human mindset told her that she should be frightened, but no matter how much she tried she couldn't bring herself to be. She felt too _good_. Something she would never in a million years have expected.

Warily she ran her tongue over her teeth, the fangs already having disappeared, and wondered what it would feel like to change. To _really_ change, fully and completely, into the wolf.

Would she be strong? Would she be big? Elle promised that one day soon, away from causing harm, she would find out.

At that very moment however, she had more important fish to fry. Namely, finding the elusive hobbits before they left her behind in an unknown town with absolutely no means of getting to Rivendell.

_Please don't tell me I missed them_, Elle begged silently as she pulled on the burnished kirtle over her tunic. It was even harder lacing it up than it was undoing it. She finally managed however, after a few minutes of watching her fingers from the reflection of the mirror. With her attuned sight it was a _lot_ easier than it would normally have been.

Thank fuck for small favours.

Elle combed a hand through damp hair, with not enough time to re-braid it out of the way. She bent reflexively to put on her glasses, before realising once more that she no longer needed them.

Leaving them behind on the bed, Elle made sure to lock the door as she hurried out of the room, the curling ends of her hair dripping against her lower back as she ventured down to the bar. She didn't even bother glancing in the direction of the room across from hers, fearful of how close she'd come to ending that stranger's life.

The place was in full swing now. A roaring fire held it's own in one of the far corners, loud boisterous voices filling the air. The patrons had near doubled, the tavern far more crowded than when she'd got here.

Their drunken cat-calls were all that could be heard, as pitchers of ale slammed together to bouts of decidedly obnoxious, male laughter.

She flinched more than once. The sudden invasion of so many different sights, smells and sounds offensive to her delicate new senses. Every clink of ale, every raucous laugh, and every boorish shout scraped against her ear-drums like a knife.

Elle scanned the large inn, candlelight bouncing off the stone walls and casting a soft glow over the large wooden tables and intoxicated men. It was disconcerting to say the least, as she still wasn't in the slightest used to this newfound talent.

Even with her honed sense of sight, she only spotted them after the second try. They were so small that her frantic eyes had simply passed over them. Elle exhaled in unabashed relief, her thumping heart slowing as she made a beeline for their table.

But jeez, they were small! Like, teeny tiny small. No bigger than a seven year old, she'd say.

She was sure they hadn't been this small in the film! Or had they? Argh, she couldn't remember.

In any case, she could recognise those cherub-like faces, wild curly hair and pointed ears anywhere. It was Merry and Sam sitting together at one of the smaller wooden tables, a pint of ale sitting before the hobbit's eager brown eyes.

Just as she was about to approach the table, a commotion by the bar caught her attention. Pippin was sitting on a stool, surrounded by a group of dirty, rough-looking men who were all gaping openly in shock at a bare patch of stone flooring.

It wasn't until Pippin turned in fright that Elle recalled the scene. Frodo had fallen backwards in his bid to stop Pippin's loud-mouth, only to have the ring land perfectly on his finger and swallow him into the shadow world.

He was there, but invisible.

Elle's mind reeled, feeling strangely faint to see the familiar scene acted out before her very eyes like it was a bad case of dejavu. Except this time, it was really happening.

Elle followed with her eyes the path Frodo would make, crawling back until he removed the ring at the base of the nearest table. And just like that, the little hobbit appeared unscathed, but looking thoroughly shaken up.

_Poor little dude_, Elle sympathised._ I feel for ya._

Before she could even really register what was happening, the Ranger appeared out of nowhere beside Frodo. He whispered something unheard to him, before whirling them both around and disappearing up the stairs Elle had just come down from.

She knew now what came next. Eyes flashing with fear, the memories of this night tumbled down into the forefront.

The Ringwraiths.

Elle watched as Sam, Merry and Pippin each jumped up in shock and rushed off to rescue their friend. Pippin followed Merry's suit and grabbed the nearest thing as they went, holding out the household items like they were weapons.

Elle followed behind in haste, lifting her skirts as she rushed up the stairs a few paces behind only to burst into the first room they saw.

"Let him go, or I'll have you Longshanks!" The golden-haired one, clearly Sam, roared as they barged in with his fists raised for a fight.

Being a hobbit, and backed up by Merry clutching a candlestick and Pippin with a stool almost as large as himself, they weren't exactly a frightening picture. But the fury was there, and the courage, and that was enough to find the trio a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Unless, of course, you were Aragorn, who only slung his raised sword back into it's scabbard upon their entrance with a relieved look.

"You have a stout heart, hobbit. But that will not save you." The Ranger said before turning back to Frodo, his face deathly serious, "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming."

All four hobbits gaped openly up at the human, slowly lowering their makeshift weapons after noting he was obviously no immediate threat. Elle continued to watch on from the hall, none of them having noticed her yet.

"Who are you?" Sam questioned suspiciously, his tone distrustful and reluctant.

"My name is Strider in these parts." Aragorn answered elusively, "But we have naught time for pleasantries, master hobbit. We must depart to safer quarters."

It was now that Aragorn noticed Elle standing back awkwardly, her eyes shifting over the entire scene in absolute awe. It was like literally being _inside_ the film, that's how perfectly the events rolled out before her.

_Well, I suppose in some ways I am_, She corrected herself, before she felt the itch of someone watching her and looked up to catch Aragorn's suspicious green eyes.

"I remember you." Aragorn strode forward with a look of rage as he bore down upon her, "You were here earlier. Are you a spy, wench?"

Elle stumbled backward, her lips hanging open as she fumbled for something to say. To be under the Ranger's furious gaze was more than she could handle, he was far more imposing in person than he'd ever been on paper.

More then that, however, was the sudden burning need in her core to rip the man's throat out. To plunder, to feed, to _protect_ herself.

She had to visibly steady herself, drawing in a ragged breath as she tried to ignore the tantalising, wet thump of his pulse. Fucking hell, it was all too much.

Elle was dimly aware that her eyelids had fluttered shut. She leaned in to listen to his breath easing in and out, in and out, in perfectly controlled synchrony. How quick and painless it would be to end that sound forever, to watch the Ranger's life flicker from his eyes in death...

Elle wrenched herself back until her head hit the wall once more, the crack of pain at the back of her skull ripping her back into consciousness as sparks flashed before her eyes.

"Speak!" Aragorn demanded in a harsh whisper, unaware of all that had transpired. The Ranger was more concerned with the possibility of drawing attention to their impromptu meeting, than anything else.

"I- I'm not a spy!" Elle suddenly found her voice, pressed against the wall with the Ranger closing in. She had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. He was much taller than she'd pictured.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm just..." Elle faltered, gulping as she prepared herself for the lie, "I was sent by Gandalf."

Well, it wasn't a _total_ lie. Radagast had informed Gandalf that she'd be meeting them here, and he'd been sure that the wizard wouldn't mind her using his name.

Aragorn stared hard down at the trembling girl, his eyes stony and unforgiving as he mulled over the information. Why would the wizard send a petite little woman to protect the hobbits? She couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall, with no weapons that could be seen whatsoever on her person. It didn't make any sense.

"G- Gandalf," Elle continued on bravely, "told me to... to ensure that Frodo would be kept under a watchful eye until his return. I was not meant to approach them, he did not mean for them to start the journey without him. They were to wait until he arrived. But he has been... delayed. I think you'd be correct, Ar- uh, Ranger, in saying we must move on."

It was hard work not to start rambling incessantly, or to begin screaming obscenities at the poor man. Elle just had to keep reminding herself that he was their only hope of arriving at Rivendell on time, not to mention keeping them alive until then.

He was right to be suspicious of her, anyway. After all, she wasn't exactly what she appeared to be. Aragorn didn't look to be too convinced as he grabbed her by the upper arm, his large hand squeezing in warning, "And how do we know your tongue is not laced with lies, wench?"

"Leave her alone!" Came Frodo's voice from somewhere behind the Ranger.

Elle glanced to the hobbit in shock, surprised he was standing up for her against the wild-looking man. Frodo wasn't watching her, however. His blue eyes were trained on Aragorn, fuming to protect the helpless woman.

"Y-yeah!" Sam suddenly spoke up from beside his friend, "She's just a girl! She's done no wrong here!"

Pippin and Merry nodded their heads fervently in agreement from behind the Ranger's shoulders.

Elle however, despite their good intentions, couldn't stop the words from blurting past her lips as she said in outrage, "_Just_ a girl? I'll have you boys know, where I'm from women are just as strong and capable as men! More so, in some cases!"

_Oh, my god Elle. Just shut up_.

Aragorn's eyes hadn't left her face, though they flickered with amusement at her outburst. In contrast the hobbits were fairly speechless.

"Are they now?" Aragorn pondered, "And where, pray, do you hail from?"

"I'm... Far from here, in a village called Sydney. I highly doubt you know of it, it's hidden and obscure to the goings-on of men. We like our privacy." Elle replied easily, amazed at how the lie just rolled off her tongue.

Well, damn. Looked like high school Drama improv had finally paid off.

Aragorn clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, scrutinising her every movement. Elle made sure to keep eye contact, refusing to blink under his penetrating gaze. She knew that to make a lie believable, she had to pretend like she had nothing to hide. Which she didn't. Except, you know, the whole raised in another realm, evil werewolf thing...

After a few more deliberating seconds, Elle's neck pricking uncomfortably as sweat beaded between her breasts from nerves, Aragorn finally acquiesced.

He let go of her and stepped back apologetically, "I am sorry, my Lady. One can never be too careful under such dire straits."

Elle raised both brows and replied, "Oh, so now it's '_my Lady_' again?"

All four hobbits stared at her like she'd just sprouted wings, or something. Which she might as well have done, since men bearing pointy swords weren't exactly used to being talked back to from a woman.

Aragorn however only nodded in acknowledgement, "Aye, it is. I'd rather be safe than be sorry."

Elle sighed, calming her hurricane of thoughts.

Of course he was right, she just couldn't resist the little jab. So much had happened in the past 24 hours, she could hardly be expected to remain level-headed.

"Yeah, I know. We should get going though dude, the Nazgûl will be on their way." She missed his odd stare as she ran her hands down the front of her dress, straightening her crumpled skirts, "I just gotta grab my shit, and then we can motor."

"Pardon me, my Lady?" Aragorn's tone had morphed to something of bewilderment.

Elle looked up, eyeing their confusion.

"Erm, I mean, I'll go and collect my belongings and then we may... depart?" Her voice ended on a nervous squeak, offering Aragorn a disarming smile.

It was quick work shouldering her pack and swinging her cloak protectively over her shoulders, and after Aragorn had set up the four decoy beds the group left the familiar wing of the Prancing Pony for safer grounds.

"It would be best if we stayed nearby. Near enough to keep an eye on the arrival of the Nine." Aragorn murmured as he ushered them through the rain toward a nondescript motel across the road and a few buildings down.

The streets were slick with mud and bare of activity, abandoned during the storm. Thunder clapped above their heads and Elle pulled her hood closer over her face protectively as they hurried.

Sheltered now within the inn, she assessed the frightened hobbits as they waited for Aragorn to book a room. Their small faces were pinched with worry as they whispered amongst themselves, shaking their cloaks out from the rain.

She refrained from pulling the tiny boys into a comforting hug, knowing that in spite of their appearance they were actually men. Not children. With their rosy cheeks, innocent eyes and curling hair, who could blame her?

Together they trundled up the stairs, Aragorn in the lead. He was still watching her tensely, her movements calculated from the corner of his eyes. She knew she'd be under watch for some time to come, at least until she'd won his trust.

In the meantime she opted for keeping her mouth shut as much as possible.

The hobbits on the other hand had certainly warmed up to her fairly quickly. They were sticking a lot closer to her than they were to the dark and dangerous Ranger, which left her feeling awfully smug.

Sure, it was probably because she was less of a risk to their well-being, seeing as how she was _just_ a girl. But whatever, it felt good to be welcome.

_Welcomed_ by the Fellowship. It was a strange thought to entertain.

The board room was small but would do well enough. There was one large bed against the back wall, a decent-sized fireplace and one large window looking out into the street below.

Before, Elle might not have been able to make out the swinging sign of the Prancing Pony from this distance, what with the storm and all. Now she didn't even have to press her face to the window to spy it just a couple doors up from where they were staying.

She was marvelling over her newfound sight, absently fingering the spectacles in her hands when Aragorn broke the silence.

"Sleep, gentlemen. We have an early start tomorrow." He encouraged the hobbits as he crouched to tend to the dying embers of the fire.

The boys crawled reluctantly up into the large bed, Pippin falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Elle couldn't hide her smile as she watched him, so trustful to pass out so effortlessly in a room full of strangers.

Merry on the other hand was watching her apprehensively, his fingers clutching at the blanket as though he meant to speak, but wasn't sure where to start.

Elle sat on the end of the bed, laying her pack by her feet as she took off her cloak and freed her hair from beneath, pretending not to notice the hobbit's curious stare.

"What is your name, my Lady?" Merry finally spoke up, his voice a soft whisper against the harsh crackle of the burning flames.

Elle noted as Aragorn tensed, imperceptible to the naked eye. She would have definitely missed it, had she still been completely human.

The thought made her cringe. She _was_ human. Just... with a little extra kick to her now.

"It's Elle." She answered the hobbit, lifting her lips into a friendly smile.

Merry's eyes softened slightly, "I'm Meriadoc. But you can call me Merry, everyone does."

"It's nice to meet you, Merry." Elle said, flattered by the introduction. Oh, how a million people would happily trade places with her right now.

"This here is Pippin, Sam and Frodo... But you already knew that, didn't you?" Merry finished, his head cocked to one side.

"Um, yeah... I did. Gandalf told me." Elle said, going along with Radagast's plan. Guilt threatened to swallow her whole, but she pushed it back for now.

"Why was Gandalf delayed?" Frodo interrupted. He was the only one of the hobbits not in bed, preferring to sit beside Sam over the covers.

"My thoughts exactly." Aragorn stood, walking to lean against the wall.

"He... needed information. The task was far more tedious than he'd ever suspected." Elle offered by way of explanation, silently praying she sounded believable.

"And why are you here again?" Sam mumbled sleepily, rolling over beside the unconscious Pippin.

"To watch over you." Elle answered, though this didn't feel like a lie. Inside, she felt like this was exactly what she was meant to be doing.

Aragorn crossed to the window and took a seat as he looked out into the streets, his expression guarded and shrewd.

They sat shrouded in darkness for a while, the rain pattering endlessly against the diamond-shaped panes. Soon all three hobbits were fast asleep. Only Aragorn, Frodo and Elle remained alert and wired to the lurking shadows of the night.

Every sudden noise outside, each scratch against the roof or thud down in the street, had them all stilled and bracing for an attack. Unperturbed, the storm went on.

Elle felt awkward and uncomfortable, sensing that her presence was unwanted by the Ranger as she sat leaning against the window panes looking out into the storm. Aragorn hadn't moved since he'd sat down, staring fixedly at the Prancing Pony. She could feel him watching her, too. Constantly on guard, like the soldier he was.

If she concentrated, she could locate each ba-bump of their hearts beating in the silence. She could smell the mud crusted on the hobbits bare feet, the steel of Aragorn's sword. It was eerie, yet strangely exciting to feel so powerful.

In the silence, Elle pondered the changes she'd incurred in such a short span of time. She was practically a different person already, and those changes would only grow as time passed. That is, if what Radagast had said was true. That this was really only the beginning, and even now she was not yet fully merged with the wolf.

Ah, so many questions. Her brain felt ready to implode with the pressure, finding it far easier to ignore most things and concentrate on the little stuff for now.

"How do I know I can trust you, Lady Elle?" Aragorn spoke so softly, she probably would have missed it if she wasn't peeled for the slightest sound.

Elle looked to him, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. His eyes were hooked on hers, his expression withdrawn.

Elle thought for a moment before replying carefully.

"How do any of us know we can trust _you_, Strider?"

Aragorn was momentarily stilled, before he bobbed his head in understanding and turned back to the window.

"There is more to you than we've been made aware," He began after a moment, "but I dare not insult Gandalf with your dismissal. I will deign to trust you for the time being."

Elle snorted to herself, resisting the damning urge to retort. It would only create trouble, and she was lucky as is to be allowed in on the journey. Even if she was unwanted.

Aragorn stilled abruptly, pulling her attention to the drizzling streets outside. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness. And then she saw them.

They had come.

In all her life, Elle had never felt fear such as this. Her entire body was gripped in ice-cold terror, frozen to the spot. Her breath clogged in her throat.

Four Black Rider's cantered through the street, mud spraying as they skidded to a stop at the door to the Prancing Pony and leapt fluidly from their black steeds.

Fear licked at her spine, crawling like poison beneath her skin.

The stallions pawed aggressively at the ground, mouths foaming and eyes rolling madly in the gloom, but they were nothing compared to the Ringwraiths that rode them. All four wore dark steel armour, their bodies draped in black, wispy cloaks. The fabric clung unnaturally to their sunken, invisible faces as they turned and glided swiftly into the inn.

Elle's heart pounded rapidly in her ears, breath quickening as she watched the tavern for any sign of life.

On edge.

Waiting...

It felt like hours, but was probably no more than mere minutes, when the shrieking started.

The sound was unearthly, bone chilling and sickening to the soul. Elle felt like she was drowning in dread, her fingers clenched on the arms to her chair until they'd gone white.

"What are they?" Frodo whispered as he stepped forward, frightened.

Elle was grateful for the distraction, dragging her stinging eyes away from the inn and blinking rapidly. How long had she been holding them open?

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the screams and cries of the Nazgûl continued on into the night.

"They were once men." Aragorn began softly as the other three hobbits sat up in fear, woken by the ghastly shrieks, "Great Kings of men... Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

All six of them watched, too scared to speak, as the Ringwraiths fled in fury, sweeping up onto their hell-spawned horses and riding off into the darkness.

"They are the Nazgûl. Ringwraiths. Neither living, nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will _never_ stop hunting you."

Elle clenched her jaw tightly, fighting to remember what happened next. Her memories of the film seemed to come back just as they happened, making them utterly useless when trying to plan ahead.

Honestly, she couldn't even remember who was in the Fellowship anymore, her mind an impenetrable fortress when it came to that sort of information. She looked to all five of the men in turn, wondering futilely if any of them died during this plight.

Was this supposed to help her assimilate into this world, or something? They might as well have just wiped her goddamn memories clean, if that were the case.

"Fuck..." Elle rubbed her temples against the oncoming headache, "Then we'll leave at first light. We have to get to Rivendell before they find us."

* * *

**What did you think guys? Like it? Hate it? Remember to review and let me know! I reply to every single review via PM if you leave an ability to contact, AND I actually do like to know what can be improved. This story is teaching me every day to be a better writer, it would be so appreciated if you could help me do that.**

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**~ DeLacus ~**

**Absolutely incredible support, and such a lovely girl!**

**Thank you SO much to everyone else who's posted to me, favourited and followed. You guys are what keeps me writing, truly the best people!**

****Ciao!****

**\- T **

**xo**


	5. Once Upon A Dream

**Hello, hello to all you lovely folk.**

**Sorry for the slightly longer than usual wait! What with the Easter break (Happy Easter to those who celebrate it!), family coming over, PLUS suddenly finding out I have to move and packing up my entire house (I'm currently homeless, but will be staying with my sister until I find somewhere), it was hard finding time to write anything down.**

**But I did it! Here is chapter four, perhaps a little rusty from my lack of writing and less than focused mind, but ah well! Just wanted to get something out for you pretties before I move out this weekend.**

**Oh, and just in case you're wondering, this IS mainly based on the Movieverse. However, (Eg: How they acquire Bill here) some parts may be loosely based on the book if I find the film didn't quite explain it.**

**I really hope you're all well, happy and healthy! A humongous THANK YOU SO MUCH to all who took the time to review, favourite and follow this story. You guys are truly beautiful people!**

**Well, do enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

Nothing felt real anymore.

Elle felt like she was caught up in some fantastic dream, something she'd fervently wished for since she was in primary school. And now it had actually been granted.

Except there were strings attached to this dream, of course. There always was. See, in _this_ dream she was the spawn of satan. Well, not technically. But she might as well have been.

Did she feel evil? She couldn't actually say.

What she felt was... Whole.

And in her heart, she was determined to do the right thing. To be good. And so what if she had been bred purely to do wrong, right? You don't choose your family. She had the potential to do right, and so she would.

Especially in this world, when she knew how unforgiving Middle-Earth could be. Orcs, uruk-hai, goblins, and trolls traversed through these lands every day... And that's only naming a few. There were unspeakable evils in this world, and there was no way in hell she was about to become another obstacle against the Fellowship.

And yeah, so she couldn't _actually_ remember who was a part of the Fellowship anymore... Or where they went, or if they even succeeded for that matter. But she knew the gist of it. She knew the quest, their goal. The rest was just details.

And Elle would be an asset.

She would not become yet another hindrance in this world, fighting to swallow up every last morsel of light until Arda was drowning in darkness and hate. It was this hard-boiled determination that had her up and rearing to go as soon as the sun rose that next morning.

Aragorn woke her from where she'd fallen asleep in her chair, and judging by the fact that she'd only had a pitiful four hours of anxious, uncomfortable rest she was handling it all pretty well.

That is to say, she wasn't biting anyone's head off or storming about the room in a tantrum fit for a Queen. She wasn't exactly a morning person under normal circumstances, let alone anything else.

So Elle was feeling pretty damn proud of herself as she braided her hair back, waiting for the hobbits to wake up. They were deep sleepers, especially Sam. Aragorn was having a hard time waking them, and while Elle might've normally helped, she was having way too much fun watching him try.

When all four boys were finally alert (_Frodo had been the only one to wake up almost straight away_), Elle had a moment to check up on her scant belongings. The hobbits were busy eating the dreary porridge the inn had provided for them all and Aragorn had left to acquire a horse, so she took the time to see what Radagast had left her with.

Of course, her messenger bag was rolled up at the top of the pack with her jeans and t-shirt but they didn't take up much space. Her iPhone, lighter, hairbrush, keys, some bits and pieces of makeup and other little knick-knacks a woman finds essential inside the bag.

The rest consisted of a rolled up sleeping-mat tied on top that reminded Elle very much of her yoga mat back home, a coarse woollen blanket, some meagre food supplies and a full leather water skin. All in all, it wasn't a lot. But it would do, for now.

The hobbits were chattering together quietly as they left the motel, the sun barely peeking above the distant mountains. Obviously the terrifying encounter last night had, in the light of day, been utterly forgotten, as they seemed to be in fairly good spirits.

Though Elle did observe their evident hostility toward the Ranger. Clearly, they were just as suspicious of him as Aragorn was of her.

Speaking of which, Aragorn was gesturing toward a nickering pony nearby, and Elle couldn't hold back the grin that spread like wildfire across her face.

_Bill the Pony. No way!_

"Paid a ridiculous twelve silver pennies for him," Aragorn explained to Sam as they approached the docile mule, "He's old and sickly, but he will do well enough to aid us in our journey."

"I'll call him Bill." Sam answered, his expression stoic.

He couldn't hide his happiness for long, however. Elle could see how eager he was to pet him and tend to the beast as he adjusted the few packs splayed across his back.

"That'll be a love that transcends time." Elle giggled to Merry and Pippin, both boys not quite getting the joke.

The dawn breeze was ice-cold and as refreshing as if she'd just jumped head first into a pool. Elle's breath came out in puffs of mist, her arms pulling her cloak tight around her form. Thankfully the streets weren't very active, with only the more committed merchants up to construct their stalls for the day and advertise their wares. It made for easy passage as they walked briskly up Bree's main road, heading out toward the forest.

Elle fell into pace beside Aragorn, the hobbits a couple steps behind on either side of Bill.

"Couldn't get a horse then?" She asked, concerned that this journey would solely be on foot.

"Nay, my Lady. Someone left the doors to the stables open during the night, and they all seemed to have fled. Whether it be by fear or coaxing, I do not know. The old pony was all I could find." He answered curtly, staring resolutely ahead.

Elle nodded in understanding, feeling a little uncomfortable, before falling behind to walk with the hobbits. It was easier, anyway, to keep up with them. Just one of the Ranger's strides made up two of hers.

When they, too, immediately fell silent as soon as she joined them, their stance distrustful and unsure of her presence, Elle let loose a sigh that sent her overgrown bangs swinging.

This was the weirdest road trip she'd ever been on. Nobody trusted anybody, and obviously that hadn't improved after their little sleepover last night. So far, the Fellowship wasn't all it had cracked up to be.

It was less than an hour before Aragorn was leading their little company under the dense, green canopy of the woods. Passing through thickets of shrubbery and over fallen logs and vegetation, and aiding each other along the way.

The hobbits rushed to keep up with Aragorn's brutal pace, his gaze fixed ahead and his gait confident in each step upon the woodland floor.

Elle, in comparison, tripped more than a few times. Usually she caught herself before hitting the ground upon some tree or something, though occasionally Merry would stoop to help her up and continue on their way.

She was grateful for the support, sharing small smiles as they went.

Just like her, the boys were quickly getting fed up with the silence of the Ranger, their grumbling and muttering rising with the sun.

It wasn't long before Frodo broke the tension and finally called out to Aragorn, "Where are you taking us?"

"Into the wild." Was Aragorn's cryptic response as he brushed a low-hanging fern from their path.

"Into the wild? That's it?" Elle scoffed, brows raised. Was that seriously all he could offer? Weren't they supposed to be going to Rivendell? Or maybe that didn't happen yet... Maybe Rivendell was later on...?

The Ranger did not even bother giving her a response, however.

They continued walking for a moment before Merry whispered to Frodo, "How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf's?"

"We have no choice but to trust him." Frodo replied, his expression focused ahead as they trundled on into the brush.

Elle's uneasiness rose as they walked in silence, her mind screaming at her to speak up. She wanted to turn around and shake the hobbits for being so easily swayed. They should be demanding answers from this stranger, not going along with everything he said!

She was just too afraid of what might happen if she did. They'd tell her to fuck off for sure, and wouldn't think twice about the crazy girl from Bree ever again.

Her internal debate was stilled however as Sam again asked Frodo where the Ranger was taking them all, and Aragorn answered quite simply:

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee. To the House of Elrond."

Those words had never sounded so sweet, and she visibly relaxed once the pressure was gone. Maybe now she might actually be able to enjoy this trip. After all, she _was_ in Middle-Earth. Even the dirt was exciting to this earthling here.

"Did you hear that?" Sam turned to the rest of them with a look of absolute awe, "Rivendell. We're going to see the elves!"

* * *

The day stretched on, and so did the terrain. A never ending forest of rolling hills and green, dewy fields laid out before them.

As they trekked the air grew colder, despite the sun above their heads. Packed snow flecked across the ground in sporadic clumps of ice, growing only thicker until the grass had been almost swallowed up by the sudden blankets of white.

They paused at what Elle judged to be just after the normal waking hour (_around nine o'clock in the morning, in her opinion_), as Aragorn's gaze swept across the frosted fields of snow, in search of his bearings.

She was watching the Ranger at work, seated on a protruding rock, with a curious tilt to her jaw. She felt like it was supposed to be strange, seeing him in action like this, but in reality Elle was finding it difficult to recall much of the Ranger's actions from the films. She knew he was destined to be King of Gondor and was in love with a she-elf, but if those courses ever even came to be, well... she had no idea.

Elle barely even registered the hobbits as they set about starting up a fire, and began pulling out pots and pans from Bill's pack. It was only when Aragorn turned and spoke that her attention was drawn back to the present.

"Gentlemen," Aragorn said as he realised what they were doing, "We do not stop till nightfall."

"But what about breakfast?" Pippin stated as though it were a blatantly obvious reason to stop, the hobbits' movements halting in their tracks under the confused scrutiny of their leader.

"You already had it." Aragorn answered simply, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"We've had _one, _yes." Pippin allowed, "But what about _second_ breakfast?"

Aragorn looked to the hobbit as one might look toward a child, before turning and walking away without another word. Elle had the sudden urge to slap a hand to her forehead.

"I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip." Merry consoled the hobbit, who had the look of a crestfallen puppy.

"What about elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?! He knows about them, doesn't he?" Pippin was close to pleading as he bombarded Merry with questions, who only shook his head with a smile.

"I wouldn't count on it."

Suddenly an apple sprung from the air and Merry caught it just in time, handing the ripe, red fruit to Pippin with a pat to his back.

Elle couldn't stop her mirth from bubbling forth, grinning and chuckling to herself as she stood and followed after the Ranger with Merry.

But not before they both heard the thud of an apple hitting Pippin's head, Elle falling into peals of laughter as Pippin stared up at the sky in confusion.

"Pippin!" Merry admonished, calling for his perplexed friend to follow.

The environment changed drastically over the course of the next few days as they descended into deep valleys. From sparse snowy fields and peeking bright green shrubs, to wild, dense plains of yellowed grass, littered with boulders of varying, incredible sizes.

They barely spent a single moment of rest throughout the journey, from dawn till dusk. Elle had never walked so much in her life.

Aside from her daily yoga rituals she didn't do much else by way of exercise. Her booted feet were burning, the soles aching and calves stinging in pain. Her breath came in laboured pants for the better part of each passing day, much like the other young hobbits, and her pack became an increasingly strenuous burden to carry.

Aragorn was relentless in his pace despite their constant whining and wishing for rest, and Elle found herself grudgingly appreciative of his iron-clad resolve. The man had strength, she'd give him that much.

She didn't speak unless spoken to, not sure how long she could convince the company of her good intentions if they spotted something amiss with her language and conduct. And, knowing her, she definitely would fuck up.

Plus, being over-tired and all, she was far too drained to spark up anything more than a couple grunts and mumbles, her lack of sleep playing a part in her grumpy, disinterested mood.

Instead she kept her mind busy with thoughts of home, wondering what everyone must think of her disappearance.

By now, Harley would have realised she'd gone missing. Work probably would have only found out recently, seeing as how she'd had the weekend off for once. Elle pondered if she'd been reported missing these past four days. Perhaps there were search parties out in Sydney at this very minute, looking for her.

Good luck finding me out here, Elle scorned, amusing herself with the thought of Harley's fake little panic attacks. She was probably soaking up the attention, acting as though she'd lost her very best friend for a chance to get on TV.

They would soon quickly forget, though. She had no family, no friends, no significant other. Nothing to tie her there for long. Those musings brought her back to her supposed heritage, and Elle mentally cringed.

She had been raised in the foster system growing up, being seen as a "problem child". The housing wasn't too bad, it was more the fault of the parents that had left her bitter. Not that she'd ever been physically abused by them, but it had been no secret growing up that she was only there for the sake of a pay check.

Those types of people wouldn't have noticed if a child died under their very noses, let alone anything else. The times had been too many to count that Elle had run away, or spent weeks out of housing without them even noticing she'd left at all. She, and every other kid there, had been nothing more than an easy route to more money.

Her last house, from fourteen to when she'd become a legal adult, had been where she'd first met Angela Gray. They'd clicked because they both had had shit parents, shit lives, shit schools and just about everything else shit you could think of, especially seeing as how they were just getting into their moody, dispassionate stage.

Angie wasn't a foster kid, but she wasn't from a bang-up family either so she might as well have been.

They'd done everything together back then. They'd even gone to get pageboy bobs styled so that their identical, chocolate brown hair could look even more similar. People used to ask all the time if they were sisters, and they usually lied and said yes.

Angie, however, had been so much more of an optimist than her. She'd been a dreamer, and had shown Elle how to dream, too. Those memories were her very first when it came to things like laughter, hope, freedom, happiness. And, even though Angie had died, those feelings hadn't. She remembered, and she held on.

Alright, so maybe she kind of turned into a recluse afterwards. But whatever, nobody's perfect. Elle knew that better than anyone. But she still liked to look at the glass half full, and she still enjoyed life as much as she could for Angie's sake.

She just... had wanted to do it on her own for a while. But it had been getting to that point where she was just downright lonely, going through the motions each day, and had forgotten what it felt like to be alive.

Being here, in _Middle-Earth_, it had her pulsing with adrenalin and soaring to be free, to explore.

And, fine, so maybe she _was_ in a dream. Maybe she would wake up tomorrow, or a hundred years from now, and find that she'd imagined it all. But while she was here, she was damn well going to make the most of it. Dream or not, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this good.

Even if she was sired from some evil werewolves, or whatever, this was a drastic improvement on her life. It was sad to admit, but it was true. One that felt _right_ and made _sense_.

According to hospital records, she literally had no birth parents. There was no record whatsoever of anyone having given birth to her, and yet she'd been found in the newborn ward, with her name printed on a hospital wristband and a pink blanket tucked around her.

Of course, nobody had come to claim her.

And now she knew why. They hadn't existed in that realm, and she was never meant to have been there in the first place. _She_ shouldn't have existed in that realm either, according to the old wizard.

And Radagast had been so right, hitting home when he'd mirrored the feelings she'd had since she was a child. Of feeling incomplete, and unnatural. Because she _had_ been incomplete and unnatural.

Now she finally had a chance to realise who she was, to find her place in a world she supposedly belonged in.

No, that she _did_ belong in. She felt that that was true, more than anything else she'd gone through since being here. And so she didn't know any of their customs, or way of speech and dress. So what? She could learn, and maybe even teach _them_ a thing or two.

The thought made her smile. Man, if these people could see the way humans lived in 21st Century, Earth. They'd have an apoplexy.

The sun was finally beginning to dip toward the horizon, signalling an end to their travels as it would do no good to keep on during the freezing hours of the night.

The area was overgrown, wild and weathered with rocks twice the size of herself sticking out like big grey mushrooms against the yellow-green grass. Her eyes caught on the tallest hill for miles, it's ragged cliff edges a sharp cut path leading to the abandoned ruins above.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl." Aragorn murmured above the rising dry wind, his cloak flapping by his ankles as he scanned the area from his stand on a larger boulder, "We shall rest here tonight."

Elle couldn't have been happier. Her whole body was numb with exhaustion, and her stomach hollow from hunger. She'd been having to ration the muesli-like bars in her pack, unsure of when next they'd have access to food, and the effects were leaving her dead on her feet.

"_Finally_." She muttered in one exhaled breath, dragging her feet as they shuffled on toward the ruins. The only one who seemed unaffected by their journey was Aragorn, who skipped on ahead to scout.

She was, by far, dealing with it the worst. Her pampered lifestyle of trams, trains and buses hadn't prepared her for marathons like these. It was a miracle she'd even managed to last this long, and Elle had to wonder if maybe her wolf-self had a part to play in it.

Radagast had told her that that portion would be far more placid and easily handled during the day, and he had been right. Once again she mentally prepared herself for the challenge ahead once nightfall descended.

They tied Bill to a tree nearby, with enough room to lay down and walk a bit if need be. Elle chuckled as Sam slyly fed the pony an apple, unknowing that he was being watched.

"Come on, my Lady." Aragorn smiled as he took her hand and lifted her up onto the first edge of the cliff. The stairs had crumbled long ago, missing in large sporadic pieces and making the climb all the more difficult.

"This will aid well in deterring predators during the night." Aragorn explained, though she hadn't asked. Most likely he could sense her obvious reluctance, as it was written quite clearly across her face. Elle sucked in her pride and accepted the help as she clambered up into the abandoned fortress.

The hobbits needed more assistance than she in getting up to the higher passes. The gaps in the rock-hewn stairs barely reached the top of their heads, so she ended up dropping back more than once to help boost one of the little fella's up.

They set up camp in a sizeable, sheltered alcove cut into the side of the cliff, just below the top of the watchtower. They had a decent view of the terrain from here; of brown, weathered shrubs and boulder strewn hills, stretching out endlessly for miles. The sky was smeared with miserable, grey clouds but the stone roof above their heads would serve well against any chance of rain.

Elle collapsed onto her backside, completely burnt out as she stretched her sore, abused feet. Her breath was coming in laboured puffs from the climb, her side burning from exertion. A nice, soft bed would be a blessing right now, not to mention a long and thorough bath. She hadn't washed since the inn, bar a quick wipe-down with a damp cloth.

Neither could be helped, and right now she'd make do with the sandy, bare ground instead.

Elle raised her eyes sleepily, soaking in the stunning sunset sinking below the mountains. Colours of gold and dusty pink streaked the grey clouds, bursting with a serene, soft kind of beauty.

Aragorn stood at the edge of the drop, his matted black hair swaying in the breeze as he searched the grounds for any sign of their hellish pursuers.

Elle let her eyes wander absently, in awe as her sight focused in on every small, insignificant detail. From up here she could see exactly where they had been upon first sighting Amon Sûl, as clear as if it was only a scant few feet from her face.

It was probably a kilometre and a half away from their camp now, and while she'd probably have been able to see that far before, well, now she could really see it. As in, no blurry far-off objects for her. If a person had been standing there, she'd easily be able to discern every feature of their face, the stitching of their clothes, and lip-read the words from their mouth.

Further then that, however, her sight slowly became less powerful. But that was fine with her, she'd never been able to see like this before and had never even dreamed it could be possible.

Her sense of smell and hearing in comparison was ridiculous. Elle sniffed at the air, scenting the birds that roosted above their heads, and the herd of... what smelt like _horses_, that had passed through here a few days ago. And, while the sky looked like it could rain at any moment, Elle could smell that it would not do so for days. She was baffled by this knowledge, and couldn't even explain to herself how by just one simple sniff she knew so much.

The hobbits were all complaining loudly over their empty bellies and tired feet, Pippin having gone so far as to begin massaging his oversized, hairy soles. Elle was thankful she had boots to help cushion each footfall, and had no idea how the boys could've handled the walk so well. It had seemed so much easier in the film, and now she could finally appreciate just how well-worn hobbits' feet were to the elements.

Aragorn turned from his scouting, approaching the fatigued group with purpose. He swung off his pack and pulled from it a rolled up blanket, lowering it to the dusty ground.

"These are for you gentlemen," He said as he flipped open the brown material and began handing out the four old swords within, "Keep them close."

"What about me?" Elle said as she scrambled forward, watching as the hobbits' took the weapons gingerly and with wonder.

"I am sorry, my Lady," The Ranger replied sincerely, "I was unprepared for a woman on this journey."

Elle grumbled something unintelligible, envious of Frodo's stricken face as he lifted the sword from it's scabbard. The blade was dull and not anything particularly special, but it was a weapon all the same. Elle had to tell herself that despite her want to help, she didn't actually have any fucking clue what to do with the thing.

The hobbits' seemed to agree with her sentiments, as they stared at each other in turn with no idea of what they'd gotten themselves into. The poor boys had probably never lifted a weapon in their lives, let alone been given one and expected to fight. This was no fairy tale anymore, and suddenly everything was becoming all too real and deadly.

"I'm going to have a look around." Aragorn spoke with unmistakeable authority as he turned back to the spectacular view, "Stay here."

Elle swallowed the urge to retort, unused to being bossed and ordered around. At the library she'd been someone treated with respect, someone in a position of power. She supposed she'd have to get used to being unimportant now, seeing as how she'd proved herself to be nothing short of useless so far.

"As if we'd go wandering around here." Elle huffed beneath her breath, falling back against her pack like a pillow. Aragorn either didn't hear her or didn't bother acknowledging the remark, as he swept out of sight without a second glance.

"Are you well, Lady Elle?" Frodo enquired as he took a seat beside her, his bright blue eyes stark against the darkening sky.

Elle shrugged inelegantly from where she lay, "No, I'm shit. This whole day has been shit. But I'm here, and that counts for something."

Frodo nodded along, though his naturally pink cheeks reddened slightly at her cuss, "I feel the same. At least we're doing something now."

Elle smiled and let her eyes droop shut. She was so tired, and so drained.

"Frodo?" Elle whispered as she settled in for a light nap, giving in to the ebb and flow of exhaustion rushing over her.

"Yes?" The hobbit replied sleepily as he laid beside her in a similar fashion.

"My name is just Elle... Not Lady Elle..." She sniffled as she curled her cloak tight around her, "Just Elle, okay?"

"Okay." The hobbit agreed with a yawn, before they both drifted in and out of sleep.

* * *

"What are you doing?! Put it out, you fools!

"Put it out!"

Elle snapped awake to the echoing sounds of a struggle, and within a split second she was on her feet and hissing, crouched protectively for any sudden attack.

The speed of her movements threatened to give her a head rush, as she tried to focus on what was happening. _Where was she_?!

Her eyes immediately snagged on the dying flicker of light to her left, and she focused in on Frodo as he danced about, stamping out the thoughtless fire the boys had lit.

"Oh, that's nice! Ash on my tomatoes!" Came Pippin's infuriated response as he fought to save his dinner from Frodo's large foot.

Elle didn't have time to question her defensive response to being woken, because the next thing she knew an unearthly shriek filled the cold, misty air and sent each of the boys silent. The cry pulled goosebumps to the surface of her skin, and her heart plunged instantly into ice.

"You idiots!" Elle snarled, the growl in her throat still evident as she scanned the grounds from their campsite. Her breath caught and froze in her chest as she easily picked out the five Black Riders' closing in on the base of the watchtower.

They were trapped.

"Up, get up to the top!" Elle hissed, shoving the boys toward the stairs as they snatched up their swords in fear.

"Where is Strider?" Frodo's voice was stung by terror, his eyes madly swinging from left to right as they scurried up the last remaining stairs.

"He hasn't returned yet." Sam replied breathlessly.

Elle ushered them into the middle of the platform, the circular dais open to the elements. The space was large, and ringed by crumbling arches and columns that had long ago succumbed to the wild.

"Get behind me." Elle panted, ears pricking at the slightest sound. It was difficult to hear over the four hobbits' fluttering hearts and laboured, terrified breaths, but if she tried she could just make out the thud of steel scraping against stone as the Ringwraiths closed in.

A low, warning growl vibrated from within her chest, and she sensed the hobbits' fearful shiver as a tremor swept violently through her body.

_Fuck, not now_!

Elle clenched her jaw tight, muscles spasming as her breath quickened radically, to the point that her chest was pumping out air every half second, her nostrils flaring from the strain.

"Lady Elle, what's wrong?!" Merry cried out from behind her, grasping her arm just as she shook her hair back and bared her teeth, fangs descending rapidly from her jaw.

"J-just stay back!" She barked at the poor, oblivious hobbits, digging her nails into her palms to enforce calm. This was no time to lose control, not now when they were mere minutes away from death.

And then, as if the timing couldn't get any worse, they appeared.

All five of them, with gaping, endless black holes where their faces should have been. They swept slowly out of the gloom, drawing their swords with demented hands sheathed in metal. The air grew thick, heavy, until they were drowning in it.

Elle recoiled, her stomach threatening to reject it's meagre contents as the stench of rotting, desolate flesh hit her. All doubt that she was in fact here in Middle-Earth fled as she was confronted by these inhuman creatures, stinking of death and hatred and fear. If there was anything to prove that this place did indeed exist, it was these unspeakable corpses.

The wraiths descended, making not a sound as they glided over cracked and dusty stone toward them. Her eyes zeroed in on their leader, and Elle knew that there was no disputing what she was seeing and feeling anymore. This was real, and they were about to be killed.

Her struggle over her wolf ceased, and for once Elle felt completely in sync with the beast. She was allowed to kill these things. Hell, she _wanted_ to. They were not something innocent to be protected from her, these things should not have been alive in the first place.

The Ringwraiths unsheathed their swords in unison; the vile, black blades jagged and glinting in the dappled moonlight. Cautious, they began to close the distance. And Elle was ready for it, unable to resist the pull of the wolf as she clawed for control.

_Yes, yes! Death, kill, bite, rip..._

It was only the sudden trembling of the hobbits as they stumbled back that brought her spinning to her senses. She didn't yet know, or even understand, the prowess of the wolf, and she could not unleash such an unstable creature so near. For all she knew, she could just as easily kill these boys as turn against those ghastly figures.

With a mental shout of pain she reined in her impulses, locking them away inside her mind. It would cost her dearly in the long run, the pain she could already feel building for sealing away such a side of herself, but for now she _had_ to stay in control.

In any case, it would be stupid to just run headlong into the unknown. She didn't even know if the wolf would stand a chance against such things, her keen eyes sharp on their advance as the wind tugged delicately on reeking, black cloaks.

"Stay back!" Elle growled, baring her fangs protectively as they crept closer.

They ignored her, their movements faultless as they each pointed their blades forward, descending like a hawk upon it's prey.

They stank of the ugliness and hatred of their souls, twisted into something unnatural and wrong.

"I said, _STAY BACK_." Elle screamed, teeth snapping at their blades instinctively as she guided the group back across the dais. She must have seemed about as scary as a turnip, because they did not even bother glancing in her direction.

"E-Elle!" One of the boys whispered, terrified, but did not get the chance to continue as she was suddenly shoved roughly aside by one of the Ringwraiths.

She fell against the concrete hard, skidding and grazing her palms against loose stones, before she rolled and shot back to her feet.

"Back, you devils!" Sam cried out with a swing of his sword, to be tossed to the floor as well.

The Ringwraiths had merely battered away the boys' clumsy attempts to attack, sending their swords flying and the hobbits tumbling into a pile. One by one they had tried to protect Frodo, but now he was all that was left to stand between them, and the Ring.

Elle ran to the boys, but they appeared unharmed as they each climbed to their feet, stark white and shaking in terror. Pippin looked like he was about to throw up himself, his pale face drenched in a ghostly sheen.

The wraiths turned to them as one, approaching once more as Elle pushed the hobbits behind her again and snarled in warning, the blood rushing through her ears at an alarming pace. She was holding on by a thread, demanding control as the wolf continually slammed against her mind, fighting to break free.

"_I will not let you win_." Elle hissed between her teeth, her words meant for not only the Black Riders, but for herself as well. Shaking and disorientated she futilely prayed for help, blinking back tears as she mustered up a weak snarl.

And then everything stopped, acting as if in slow motion, as the leader of these damned creatures turned slowly toward the black call of it's Master.

Frodo had revealed the One Ring.

That subtle glint of gold, settled in the small hands of the little hobbit, was unmistakeable from where he lay fallen.

"Frodo, no!" Elle screamed out, holding the boys back as they fought to rush to the aid of their friend.

The Witch-King, for she knew now just what he was, stepped soundlessly toward his kill. His sword pointed, arm outstretched, and before Elle knew what was happening Frodo had slipped the Ring onto his finger and disappeared from sight.

With his disappearance, Elle's eyes snapped back to the advancing four wraiths.

Tears stung her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she snapped and snarled at the approaching Nazgûl, damning the stupid Ranger all the while for abandoning them in their time of need.

If she sacrificed herself, she may very well be able to give the hobbits the head start they needed to escape. Perhaps not all of them would have to die this night. Elle took a deep breath, preparing herself to run headlong into the Ringwraiths and distract them for as long as she could.

"When I scream, you boys run." Elle whispered frantically to the hobbits huddled behind her, "I'll distract them and give you time to get Frodo and escape."

"No, Lady Elle!" Merry cried out, once more grasping her arm, "You can't do that!"

"It's our only chance!" Elle shot back, pulling in lungfuls of air as she willed her heart to slow from it's frenzied pace, "Please, they can't get to the Ring."

With those words, a sudden image of Frodo being stabbed straight through the shoulder by the hand of the Witch-King swam before her eyes.

Gods, no. She knew what came next!

Elle spun just in time to see the Ranger appear over the edge, her heart leaping into her throat as she froze in fear for him. It was short lived however, as she watched Aragorn charge straight into the midst of battle and send the Ringwraiths scattering back defensively.

Frodo appeared seconds later, an agonising scream ripping hoarsely from his throat as he clutched his shoulder, scrambling back against a fallen pillar and away from the fight.

She wanted to go to him, but they were cornered on opposite sides with Aragorn fighting against the Ringwraiths in the middle.

Elle's eyes locked on Aragorn, hypnotised as he moved and swept fluidly between their sword swings, parrying them back with dance-like ease. In one hand he held a lit torch, the fire lighting up the gloom as he utilised this too, sweeping them back with the flames.

In her fascination, she momentarily relaxed her hold on the hobbits, and, seizing his chance, Sam let lose and made a run for it. He ignored her cries of protest as he dodged between the shrieking Nazgûl, sliding under ringing blades as he raced to the aid of his injured friend.

Elle had Merry and Pippin in each arm, and was trembling futilely as her breath came in sour gasps. She felt like she should be doing _something_. She should be helping Aragorn, not standing here, frozen and gaping like a useless ninny.

Her limbs wouldn't work, and her head refused to stop spinning. Elle fought the urge to be sick as Aragorn sent two of the Ringwraiths fleeing, screaming like Banshee's as their cloaks went up in flames around them. The other two followed suit, fearful of the bright fire as they disappeared over the cliff face.

Aragorn was panting hard, his hair dripping with sweat as he swung to face the remaining Black Rider. The Witch-King was all that was left, his movements stilled from where he was approaching a cowering Frodo and Sam.

The Ranger wasted no time in hurling the torch straight into the Nazgûl's faceless head, his aim hitting true as the creature's foul shrieks sent shivers racing across Elle's spine.

Her mouth hung open, wondering what the torch could be sticking in to as it flailed around helplessly, before the Witch-King turned and fled with the rest of it's kin into the night.

"Strider!" Sam yelled for help, holding on to Frodo as he writhed and cried out in pain.

Elle wiped the moisture from her eyes with the sleeve of her sullied dress, staggering toward the two hobbits.

"Help him, Strider." Sam begged.

Aragorn knelt by Frodo, picking up the fallen sword beside him. It was as ugly and evil as the one who it belonged to, and the Ranger held it with disgust.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade."

Elle watched as the blackened blade crumbled to ash in his hands, and Aragorn dropped the cursed hilt with a clang in revulsion, "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."

Completely trusting in the face of death, Sam stepped back and allowed the Ranger to hoist Frodo into his arms, an anguished groan ringing from the hobbit's colourless lips. He twitched and trembled in his arms in silent torment, eyes rolling back into his skull.

Elle felt as if she'd like nothing more than to run away and hide. To pretend this night had _never_ happened at all. Her fangs retracted slowly within her jaw, the wolf retreating docilely now that the immediate danger had passed.

All she had left now was the anxiety that clawed at her insides, and she managed to stumble a couple times as she followed after the group in a daze.

What was supposed to happen next?!

She couldn't remember at all. Did Frodo die? Did the Ringwraiths return? Would they even get through this night alive?!

It was all too much, and somehow she managed to shove back those turmoiled thoughts in to the pit of her skull and swallow down her many fears, until all she had left to feel was the blessed numbness of shock.

They would get through this night. Even if she had to force the change and tear apart each and every Black Rider herself, they would do it.

The climb down the watchtower was somehow easier. Perhaps it was the adrenalin that tripled their efforts and had them careening down like seasoned hikers, sparing no amount of time in taking the more dangerous drops cautiously.

They stopped only once to shoulder their belongings, and upon reaching the bottom of the cliff thanked the stars that Bill remained unharmed and still tethered nearby.

Their speed was unmatched as they jogged, weaving around boulders, toward the forest that crept closer with each kilometre their feet ate up. Elle could no longer feel the pain of their earlier trek, her boots springing from the cushy grass with each step she took. She felt terrified and alive, and strangely well rested despite how brief her nap had been.

Was this a side to her wolf, that left her in little need for recuperation? Or just the adrenalin, playing tricks on her mind once more? She had no idea, and frankly didn't really care as they raced breathlessly and in silence toward the dark edge of the woods.

Frodo groaned in strain with every jostling step; the entire company wincing each time, in fear for his life. Elle could smell the blood congealing at the entrance to his wound, and the sickly sweet scent of the poison coursing through his veins, dragging him down into the Shadow World.

The poisoned shard of the Morgul blade refused to let it's host bleed out. It had trapped the venom inside as it worked toward his heart, forcing Frodo to bear the brunt of his pain. It was horribly ingenious, and a sickening way to die. Elle wouldn't wish it upon her worst enemy.

After an hour of cross-country running the group finally broke through the tree line, their pace slowing as they circled past fallen branches, trees and bushes. Aragorn still held Frodo in his arms, and the little hobbit was shaking rapidly. He didn't look to be conscious anymore, his eyes wide and glazed over. Unseeing.

Elle had a stitch in her side, but she was barely aware of it as she pushed on. Nothing was compared to what Frodo was feeling right now, his groans a constant reminder of her failure to protect him.

They staggered on through the undergrowth, the tall, thin trees casting eerie shadows in the moonlight and bathing them in pale, blue light.

"Hurry!" Aragorn rasped, fearful for the hobbit in his arms who was now ice cold and fighting for breath.

"But we're six days from Rivendell!" Sam wheezed in desperation, "He'll never make it!"

"Hold on, Frodo." Aragorn whispered, squeezing him tighter for warmth.

Elle was hollow with fear, panting and scrambling after the Ranger as branches whipped and tore at her face and skirts. She barely noticed.

"Gandalf!" Frodo began to scream, thrashing in Aragorn's arms. Elle wanted to cry for the boy, furious with how helpless she felt.

Why couldn't there be hospitals here?! Or cars, for that matter! A bit of modern medicine would have at least slowed the effects enough for them to get to the elves in the first place.

But who was she kidding. This sort of thing would never happen where she was from, it was just wishful thinking and wasn't going to do any good. She had never felt so hopeless in her life.

A warm, soft hand suddenly engulfed hers, and she looked down into Merry's tear-streaked face beside her as they ran. He smiled reassuringly up at her, though it didn't quite reach his big, brown eyes.

Elle squeezed his hand back, and the group kept on.

Their pace slowed considerably over the course of the night, until finally some three hours later they collapsed in the shadow of some large rocks for a much needed break.

Frodo's face was contorted in a state of agony as he moaned and writhed, twitching on the floor where he was wrapped up in his cloak. His eyes were wide and an unnatural ice-blue, their colour fading fast. Sam hurried to tie Bill to a nearby tree, leaving a wooden bowl of water for the pony before rushing back to Frodo's side.

Elle began to help Pippin strike up a fire with the tinderbox, in an attempt to counteract the freezing temperature and warm Frodo, while Aragorn scanned for danger.

Once the flames were bright Merry brought over some sticks and began lighting up a few torches, passing them around. With the sudden glow of the fire, she could now make out the towering boulders around them, finding with some surprise that they were in actual fact stone statues of three incredibly aggressive looking trolls.

The memories hit her with startling force, of Bilbo Baggins and his clever game of wits with the trolls who'd deemed him and his dwarven party dinner. She would have laughed with joy at finding such a significant site, had she not been clutched between the frozen hands of fear.

Elle's fingers trembled as she handed a torch to Aragorn, her eyes pleading as she walked with him out of earshot from the boys.

"Will he survive?" She asked, hopeful.

Aragorn looked drained, exhausted. He did not answer, but rested a hand comfortingly on her arm. Her shoulders drooped in defeat.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam called out to his friend, breaking the silence as he raised a hand to Frodo's forehead, "He's going cold!"

He turned imploringly toward the Ranger, his expression begging for an answer, a cure. _Anything_.

Aragorn crouched down swiftly, pulling the cloak tight around the trembling, unconscious hobbit.

"Is he going to die?" Pippin whispered, his voice shaking.

"He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a wraith like them." Aragorn answered gently, his gaze sweeping the dark forest for any sign of the Ringwraiths that followed.

Elle bent beside Frodo, pushing back the damp curls from his forehead. His skin was sickly, sallow and pale, with not a trace of the familiar rosiness of his cheeks. His body spasmed beneath her touch, her warm fingers leaving a trail of fire against his icy skin.

"He hasn't got much time left." She choked out, the shock of the past few hours leaving her numb with disbelief.

A sudden shriek on the breeze echoed from afar, grasping everyone's attention as they all stiffened in turn.

"They're close." Merry's tone was laced with horror as he slowly stood from his squat by the fire, glancing about anxiously.

"Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Aragorn asked briskly, gesturing for the hobbit to come.

"Athelas?" Sam said as he scurried over.

"Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil! Uh, it's a weed!" Sam jumped to, eager to assist.

"It may help to slow the poisoning. Hurry!" Aragorn ordered the stocky hobbit, who quickly ran off in search of the plant.

Elle turned back to Frodo, her eyes searching his face for any sign of life. _Any_ sign that he was fighting against the effects of the poison.

"Pippin, I want you to hold his hands and keep them warm okay?" Elle stammered out, figuring it was about time to try some form of a modern approach here.

Pippin hurried over and took Frodo's hands between his, rubbing them to create friction and hopefully stimulate some warmth into the boy.

"Bring that torch over here." Elle asked Merry, who stepped up beside her and lowered the flame to provide some heat and light.

Elle took a deep breath, fumbling on the buttons of Frodo's tunic as she opened it up to survey the wound. She took note of every pathetic thump of his heart, each half-hearted pulse through his veins that only served to send the shard of the blade further toward it's destination.

Pulling back the damp material, Elle inhaled sharply. The wound had not bled one single drop, the congealed blood blackened and oozing around the jagged hole. The surrounding skin was tinged yellow from the venom, angry red and purple veins branching outward like a spider's web.

"Oh, my god..." She breathed, the smell of the poison so much more prominent now. It was like curdled milk; sweet, tangy and sickening.

Her stomach roiled in distaste, but Elle pushed through. Taking the tattered and torn ends of her skirt, she ripped up through the material until she had a few decent sized strips she could bind it with.

Frodo's head suddenly tilted to one size, staring off into the distance with a pained expression, though his pale eyes seemed to be soaking in an image unseen by everyone but him.

Elle turned to look, and found herself staring up at the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen in her life. She was dressed in flowing robes of blue-grey, her raven black hair pinned back from her face. Elle's mouth fell slack as the angel approached, dropping down beside her as she placed a slender hand to Frodo's head.

Aragorn appeared with her, crouching down as he focused solely on the hobbit and began to chew on the ends of a green, flowering plant.

"Frodo?" The angel murmured, her voice soft and lyrical as she leant over him in concern.

Without word, Aragorn began packing the chewed up pieces of Kingsfoil into the wound, and Elle cringed as Frodo gasped and wheezed for breath.

"Who is she?" Merry whispered from somewhere behind her, mirroring her thoughts exactly.

"She's an elf." Sam replied in amazement.

Of course she was. Elle now noticed the pointed tips to her ears peeking through her hair, stark white against the black, and the distinctly flowery, yet spicy scent that differed so greatly from the earthy tang of the hobbits, and the masculine, leather-like musk of the Ranger.

And just like that she knew. It was Arwen, the beloved daughter of Lord Elrond.

"He's fading." Arwen said, her eyes aghast as she took the offered strips of skirt from Elle and began winding them beneath his armpit and around his wound to hold in the crushed up plant.

Elle couldn't seem to find her voice, too stricken by fear for Frodo and in awe of the beautiful she-elf to do much else.

"He's not going to last. We must get him to my father." Arwen continued, standing gracefully and turning to Aragorn as he lifted the hobbit into his arms.

"I've been looking for you for two days," She went on as she followed Aragorn toward a gorgeous white mare pawing obediently at the grass. Elle stood beside the hobbits, watching in confusion and unable to find her voice. _What was going on_?

"Where are you taking him?!" Merry demanded as he stepped forward, distrustful as always.

The two ignored him as Arwen murmured frantically, "There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

Aragorn hefted the hobbit gently up upon the unknown steed, tucking his cloak in around him as he replied in a language Elle didn't recognise. It was as lyrical and soft as Arwen's voice, caressing her ears like a delicate, crooning song.

Arwen replied similarly, both of them looking deep into the other's eyes as she laid a hand upon his.

"What are they saying?" Pippin stuttered, confused and scared. They continued on in their foreign language, ignorant to the puzzled, outraged stares they were receiving. She'd had enough.

"Excuse me." Elle stepped forward aggressively, fed up and angry that they weren't including the rest of them in the conversation, "Just what the hell is going on?"

Both of them looked to her, startled by her crass outburst. Finding herself a little embarrassed, Elle refused to back down as she curled her fists and scowled at them both.

"We deserve answers, Ranger." She said scathingly.

"I must take Frodo to my people to heal." Arwen told her simply, before turning back to Aragorn and saying, "I do not fear them."

Aragorn took Arwen's hand in his, murmuring what Elle supposed must be some form of a goodbye.

"Ride hard. Don't look back." He finished in English.

The she-elf leapt up onto the saddle, her robes billowing around her as she held Frodo close and leant down to whisper something in the same strange language to the horse. Without even an acknowledgement toward the rest of them, she took off with the unconscious hobbit into the forest.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, mate?!" Elle immediately rounded on Aragorn after gaping openly at the speed of the elf's departure, "You don't just send Frodo off randomly with some stranger, not when he's _dying_!"

"Those wraiths are still out there, Strider!" Sam backed her up just as quickly, both their voices rising quickly into frantic, panicked shouts.

"Be calm, my friends." Aragorn assured them both, "She is no stranger. That was Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond. She is our best chance of getting Frodo safely to Rivendell."

"And what, now we're left out here as wraith-fodder?" Elle sneered, "Genius plan!"

Aragorn looked taken aback, before he replied quite calmly, "There is no need for sarcasm, my Lady. The wraiths seek only the Ring, they shall not waste time on us while their prize threatens to slip from between their fingers."

"Great, so we've just sent Frodo off to certain doom instead." Elle grumbled, though her tone was lacking in it's earlier acidity.

She was being unreasonable. She _knew_ she was acting like a child, not to mention snapping at the man who'd just saved all their lives.

For some reason Elle couldn't quite muster up the energy to appear apologetic. Plus, now that her sudden burst of anger had ebbed away, only to be replaced by overwhelming exhaustion, she really couldn't care less.

Instead she took Sam's offered arm of comfort and staggered back to the fire, dropping down to her knees. She was finally feeling the effects of their four hour run, her muscles quivering like jelly as she raked a shaking hand through tousled curls. The braid had come sundone sometime after their encounter with the Nazgûl, and she hadn't even noticed.

"We shall rest here for the remainder of the night." Aragorn spoke with authority, tossing the last few torches back into the fire, "Lady Arwen will send horses once she arrives in Rivendell. We shall not have to walk for much longer."

The other two hobbits edged back toward the fire, silent and robotic as they followed Aragorn's lead and each rolled out their sleeping mats and blankets to sleep. They were all drained, and utterly spent. Too tired to argue anymore, they gave in to rest.

Elle moved, lethargic in her actions as she sluggishly rolled out her own mat and pulled the rough, woollen blanket Radagast had packed over her shivering form.

Everything was quiet for a moment. Nobody moved, nobody spoke. The only sounds were the crack and spit of the flames, the groan of trees leaning in the wind, and the rustle of leaves from above.

"You had better be right about this, Ranger." Elle whispered into the gloom, before the weight of her eyelids proved to be too much and she passed out.

* * *

**Wowza, longest chappie yet AW YEAH!**

**A lot happened here, hopefully it wasn't too much at once. Very stressful events so far for our Elle, she just can't catch a break right now! Rivendell promises much needed rest and recuperation.**

**I was watching the first film the other day actually, and it got to the scene in Moria where Legolas says something along the lines of "We cannot linger here." And I had a nice little giggle to myself. Did not even realise when I titled this baby, but there you go!**

**Anyhow, please don't forget to review the chapter. Lemme know what you liked and what you disliked, etc etc. I'm very keen to hear! Also Follow/Favourite and all that jazz :)**

**Hope to hear from you all,**

**-T **

**xo**


	6. Assimilation And Upskirts

**Holy cow.**

**I can't even express with words how DIFFICULT it was to get this chapter out, and all I can say is a humongously heartfelt _thank you_ to everyone out there still sticking by me and this story, reviewing and favouriting and encouraging me on.**

**Anywho, all my love to you guys. You're amazing, and the reason I kept going.**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

Elvish words used:

_Vartyo_ \- Servant.

_Elleth_ \- Female elf.

* * *

Radagast was not one for travelling.

No, he preferred the familiarity of his woods, and the company of his animals. Nothing sat better with him than being immersed in the midst of nature, completely cut off from all signs of civilisation. He never left the comfort of his home unless the situation demanded it.

With Gandalf imprisoned and under certain attack, Radagast had no other choice but to venture out east toward the Misty Mountains and into the Wilderlands.

It was here he'd find the Eagles Eyrie, and could enlist the help of his old friend Gwaihir.

Radagast rode his sled with the speed of the wind itself, the Rhosgobel Rabbits flying over the terrain until they were not much more than a misshapen blur to onlookers passing by.

Two moons had passed since he'd left Elle in the doorway to the Prancing Pony. He did not know how the little she-wolf fared, or how she'd been handling her changes. For all he knew, she could've turned and torn apart the town of Bree by now.

Radagast shook his head, swinging the sled past a narrow cluster of trees. No, he would know if that were the case. Even out here, he would have heard. The news would've spread like the plague, and the land would indeed be gripped by a new fear.

She must have pushed through. He felt tremendously proud of the wolf, though his thoughts tugged forlornly at his heart. He did miss her, strangely enough. She'd been a big part of his life for a while there. But life ebbed and flowed like the tide. Always changing, never constant.

Now, he had to focus on rescuing Gandalf. And to do that, he had to find the Eagles. Pushing all thoughts of the she-wolf to the back of his mind, Radagast continued on.

He had to stop more than once and hide out from orc sentries stationed throughout the valleys, or trudging off in groups to stage raids on the villages nearby. Sauron's forces were growing, and Radagast could not quell the sickness in his stomach at the thought.

It was late afternoon by the time he pulled the rabbits to a sudden stop, his grey eyes stormy as he peered up at the cliff face before him.

The wizard stepped off his sled, gesturing for the rabbits to rest in the shade of the trees as he walked forward into the open space below. Looking up, he could just make out the hollowed alcoves the birds nested within, dotted sporadically across the mountain. His eyes could not reach the top as it quickly became shrouded in low hanging clouds, but he knew that that would be where the Lord of the Eagles took rest.

Radagast lifted both hands to his lips, cupping one as he produced an odd, eerie whistle that echoed loudly up into the mountains.

The answering screech was almost immediate, the Eagles each taking up the song in turn. A massive gush of wind roared down out of the fog that hugged the pass, almost knocking the wizard off his feet. He had to hold tight to his hat as the Eagles descended down into the forest to greet him.

Nine Eagles, golden and majestic in all their glory, soared down from the cliffs as one. Each bat of their massive wings sent Radagast's robes flying, and his eyes watered from the dust and cold air blasting across his face.

The nine settled upon the boulders littered across the base of the cliff, some eying him with suspicion and others with disdain. He was just beginning to grow nervous when the largest, with eyes of gold flames, looked to him and spoke:

_Radagast the Brown... To what do I owe this pleasure, Tender of Beasts?_

His hooked, black beak did not move once, yet Radagast could feel the gentle timbre of his voice brushing softly against his mind.

He took a deep breath in, preparing himself for the upcoming debate in order to prove that his need was genuine and noble. Eagles, like the great extinct Sphinxes, were a proud race and, if history proved anything, were rarely convinced with ease.

"I look to beseech you for your aid, Gwaihir, Lord of all the Eagles." Radagast answered, mindful to not break eye contact and show weakness.

A couple of the other Eagles bristled, ruffling their bronze feathers in obvious irritation to his words. One look from Gwaihir, however, had their protests quelled immediately in respect.

The largest Eagle turned back to the old wizard, who trembled in his wake.

_Do not be fearful, Aiwendil_, the great Eagle spoke, referring to Radagast by his true name, _We mean you no harm._

Radagast dipped his head in reverence.

_What aid, bird-friend, would you have me contribute?_

"Gandalf the Grey has been imprisoned at Isengard, betrayed by Saruman. He _must_ be rescued and informed of the growing force of Sauron's army." Radagast implored Gwaihir as he shuffled closer, raising his voice to be heard by the Eagles that roosted above, "He- he will surely die if we do nothing, and this world will be plunged into an eternity of darkness."

The imposing bird watched the small wizard carefully, tilting his head in thought. No creature - wizard, human or elf - had come to ask for his aid in many years. Not since he'd rescued the dwarven King, Thorin Oakenshield, from the attack of the pale Orc.

Should he help them? Or would his constant assistance be a hindrance toward the growth of their kind? His people would not always be here to help in times of great need.

After some deliberation, Gwaihir made his choice without the need for further prompting. The decision was almost easy, as the Great Eagle's Eye could see far.

_I will help the wizard Gandalf,_ he murmured within Radagast's head, _For his time has not yet come to pass. The wizard still has much to offer this world, and much room to grow within himself._

Radagast had thought he'd heard incorrectly at first, until Gwaihir repeated his final verdict once more. And with that, he felt like the weight of a thousand worlds had been lifted from his shoulders. Radagast twitched nervously in an attempt to hide his joy, wanting to dance about with glee knowing that he had not failed.

"Thank you, thank you my friend!" He tumbled over his words in an attempt to show his gratitude, his hands wringing the ends of his tunic nervously as he mustered up the courage to ask for yet another favour.

He had truly thought that this would be a far more arduous endeavour, and had clearly underestimated Gandalf's influence with the Eagles and importance within this world.

But no matter. Gandalf would now live, and Radagast could return to his home in the wild with a clear conscience.

If Eagles could smile, Radagast was sure he'd be doing just that. He heard it in his voice as he replied to the jubilant wizard; _I shall leave at nightfall._

"Yes, perfect!"

It would have taken Radagast over a month to travel to Isengard from here, but with the speed of the Eagles it would take Gwaihir only a mere few hours to traverse the night sky.

_To Rivendell Gandalf shall go, and join the Fellowship as the Valar decreed_, Gwaihir finished, before noting the wizard's tentative stance.

_Is there anything more you have to ask, bird-friend?_

Radagast's nose twitched in a similar fashion to the Rhosgobel Rabbits nearby, "Y-yes, actually. Gandalf must be informed that the she-wolf has returned. She should be with the Fellowship by now. My time with her has come to an end, it is now up to him to guide her in the right direction."

The Lord of the Eagles bowed his long neck gracefully in understanding, _It shall be done._

Radagast beamed up at the Eagle, lowering into a bow of thanks.

"I will not forget this, Gwaihir. Thank you."

_Go now, Aiwendil, but be wary. These woods are not the safe haven they once were, _Gwaihir warned the wizard, who bowed down once more.

"Of course. My thanks, Great One." Radagast stammered out.

And just as swiftly as they'd appeared, all nine Eagles took off into the darkening sky, disappearing within the fog as their deafening screeches echoed across the stone mountain.

Radagast straightened his hat from where it'd fell lopsided from the rush of wind, before turning and scuttling back to his sled.

His job was now done in this war. He had to return to the forests where he belonged, and commit his life to keeping their inhabitants safe and protected as Yavanna had graced him to do.

* * *

Elle stirred, her back stiff from sleeping on the hard floor once again. Sunlight streamed through the leaves above, kissing the dawn frost from her cheeks.

Smiling sleepily, she curled her blanket tight around her as she listened to the peaceful murmur of the awakening woods. It felt so good to be able to relax, to not have the burden of the Ring in their midst. It was like some invisible rubber band had been lifted from the group once Frodo had left, the tension immediately dispersing now that they were not under threat of snapping.

Elle sighed, letting herself drift.

Half asleep, she rolled to her left and was suddenly confronted by the overpowering stench of caked dirt, vegetation and BO.

Popping her eyes open with disgust, Elle found a large, hairy foot just inches from her nose.

"Ew!" She squealed, twisting away under her blanket as her nose crinkled from the smell.

A throaty laugh met her reaction and she turned, bleary with sleep, to scowl at the Ranger from where he sat by the dead fire.

"Not funny." She grimaced.

Aragorn just shrugged, chuckling as he went back to cleaning his blade.

"Did you sleep okay?" Elle asked after a moment, leaning over to rummage through her pack for the water skin. She was, as always, careful not to let any of her electronics show as she hunted through her bag.

Of course, she would've killed for a toothbrush right about now but had been having to make do with water and the mints in her bag. Not for the first time, she wished she'd had a few toiletries on her person when she'd been transported.

"Fine, my Lady. Are we back to friendly terms, then?" Aragorn replied with a teasing smile.

Elle rubbed her neck awkwardly, "Yeah... Sorry about yesterday. I was a little stressed, it wasn't fair of me to take it out on you."

Aragorn nodded, accepting her apology with ease.

"You know, I do not recognise your accent. It is very unusual."

Elle shrugged, ignoring the unauthorised heating of her cheeks as she stood and stretched the joints of her body languorously, "Like I said, Sydney is pretty far from here..."

Okay, time for a new topic of discussion please.

"I don't know if I could ever get used to sleeping on the floor, though."

Her ability to change the subject was poor at best, but seemed to do the trick.

"The life of the traveller is not for everyone." Aragorn agreed.

She nodded, before beginning the arduous chore of rinsing and gargling with water from her flask.

"Why are you doing that?" Aragorn said, staring at her in bewilderment.

"Isn't it obvious?" She replied as she spat out some water, "I'm trying to clean my teeth."

Aragorn chuckled and raised his eyes to the heavens, "Oh Valar, she has much to learn."

Elle crossed her arms and scowled, "Don't make fun of me. How else am I supposed to do it?"

The Ranger flicked his hand for her to come over, and she obeyed as he plucked a small piece of black coal from the campfire. She took it from his hand and stared at it in confusion. It was cool to the touch, and ashy between her fingers.

Aragorn instructed her to crush it until it became powdery in her hand, which she did, though she wasn't too fond of having soot all over her fingers.

"Now rub it into your teeth," He continued as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "And afterwards, rinse with water."

"Wait, _what_?" She stopped him with a look of horror, "I have to put _this_ in my _mouth_?!"

Aragorn raised both brows comically, "Well, yes. Of course. It's what you do as a wanderer to clean and whiten teeth. Do you not wish for good hygiene, my Lady?"

Elle glared at him, "Well, duh. This just seems a little barbaric, that's all."

He didn't answer, just watched as she tentatively, and with great trepidation, began to rub the black powder into her teeth.

It tasted foul, and the texture was horrible. She had to give it a couple tries before she managed to get all of her teeth, rinsing her mouth from the black paste in between, but afterwards her mouth did feel oddly clean and fresh. Much better than it had in days, actually.

And, in spite of her fears, her mouth _didn't_ remain the blackened mess they had surely looked once she'd rinsed it out with water.

Well, damn. Who knew.

"Thank you." Elle said once she was done, feeling like she'd finally accomplished something in this world.

_I'm assimilating in to Middle-Earth_, Elle giggled to herself as she returned the water skin to her pack.

The boys woke one by one, the Ranger allowing them to wake with the day now that they were no longer pressed for time.

They had apples again and some packed muesli-like bars similar to the ones Radagast had given Elle for breakfast, and together they sat and discussed Frodo.

"Is he okay, Strider?" Sam prodded for the hundredth time from his seat, chewing on an apple beside Bill.

"I'm sure he is." Aragorn replied, "He is a strong lad, and Arwen is the fastest rider I know. I have no doubt that they arrived safely this morning."

"What of the Black Riders?" Pippin's voice wavered, but his expression remained strong.

Aragorn looked to them in turn, "I do not know, but I am certain that we are the least of their concerns right now. We are _safe_, and Frodo is _alive_. I'm sure of it."

His conviction eased all of their worries, settling them into high spirits as they packed up their camp and set off once more.

Elle's body no longer ached from the activities of the day before, and this time she knew that it was because of the wolf's influence. There was no way in hell she would've held up for that long under normal circumstances, and even if by some miracle she had, she'd definitely be incapacitated the next day.

After her deep rest, she truly felt the best she had since arriving in Middle-Earth. Elle was grateful that Aragorn had gifted them with the short lay in, but was mindful that they still had a job to do as they all picked up their pace toward the direction of the Elven city.

She couldn't hide her eagerness to arrive. Partly to finally be able to _see_ Rivendell in all it's glory, but mostly because she needed to know that Frodo was alright. The rest of the company seemed to mirror her sentiments exactly, as they silently trundled in a line through the brush with one single goal in mind.

Another day passed, with a night just as cold and uncomfortable as the last. They packed up with dawn the next day, determined to make it to Frodo as soon as possible.

It was just after high noon when they finally stopped for a quick break. They weren't doing too bad actually, but Bill was an old pony and he for one was definitely getting on the worst.

Elle was bursting with energy, something she wasn't at all used to. Back in her old life (_It was so strange to think it'd been just a week ago, seeing as how she felt like she'd been gone for years already_), Elle had been prone to short bouts of depression. She'd even suffered anaemia once as a teen, and it'd been difficult to get out of bed most days.

Now, well... She was filled with a newfound appreciation for life, not to mention buzzing with repressed energy. If it'd been just her walking, she probably wouldn't have stopped at all.

She wasn't sure if it was because of their near brush with death the other night, or if it was her connection with the wolf that filled her with a need to _move_, and be excited about everything at once. Probably a combination of the above.

It was almost like she was experiencing life anew, recognising things she'd never noticed before. Like the fresh scent of ferns, the rawness of tree bark, or the tingle of peppermint in the pines.

And the _sounds_, wow. Every second she was picking up on something new. It was like a buzzing radio in the background, and all she had to do was focus on something in particular and boom; loud and clear, almost as if it was coming from right beside her.

And as such, she could now locate things without even trying. Like the noisy squirrels chattering high up in the branches, or the grazing deer herd that carried on the breeze to the west.

It was beautiful, tranquil. Elle was positive that if she didn't have the aid of the wolf that all of these different noises and scents would have quickly become unmanageable, and she would have gone insane. The wolf on the other hand just seemed to drown them out, unless of course she _wanted_ to focus on something.

It was a perfectly symbiotic relationship, in which they both benefited from. The wolf had halted her actions more than once, adjusting her balance and foot steps accordingly, stopping her from crashing down embankments or tripping over raised tree roots.

She was actually beginning to like it's presence in her mind. It was a strong, youthful, exuberant presence. The wolf for one, she found, had a certain sense of prideful, cocky invincibility about her which Elle thought was quite funny. She'd never felt so confident before, or so free of cynicism and doubt.

Elle, full of zest, utilised the time in their break to climb up a nearby tree and see if she could survey the forest from above.

Sam and Pippin were rubbing down a tired Bill, while Aragorn watched on with Merry. Despite their distraction, she still made sure to move far enough away so that they wouldn't be able to look up and see under her skirts.

The Ranger had already admonished her more than once over her current state of dress. Seeing as how her skirt was now torn, with a nice big split up one leg where she'd ripped the shreds to bind Frodo's wound, apparently that meant she was immodest and needed to take more care in covering up.

Men of this age really were a bore in that department. Because really, a little leg never hurt nobody.

Which, you know, she'd told him. But according to his exasperated look, it hadn't really meant all that much.

So Elle was about four metres up the tree, with her skirts fluttering open around her bare legs in a very unladylike manner, swinging a foot out from a branch when a pleasant voice she didn't recognise drifted up from the ground.

"Well, well... What's this? A woman, stuck in a tree?"

Elle almost lost her footing in fright, a shriek springing from her lips as she scrambled for a better hold.

She glanced down, and could've died of embarrassment right then and there. The group of decidedly _male_ strangers below were obviously getting quite a nice, long perve at her knickers, as they all stared up at her curiously.

The one who'd spoke, obviously their leader, stepped forward with just a hint of a smile, "Do you speak, little one?"

She frowned at that. Sure she was only 5'5", but that didn't mean she was _little_.

"I can speak just fine, thank you." Elle sneered, "You just scared the bejeezus out of me. Now could you please stop staring at my underwear? Some might find that rude, you know."

Some of the men chuckled at her response. The leader however, rather than respecting her wishes, just continued to smile placidly up at her.

"Some may, indeed. However, if a woman wishes to climb about in trees dressed in nothing but rags, one can really expect no less, correct?" He retorted smoothly, his smile growing as she scowled.

"No, you wanker. I'm scouting. Now please, fuck off." She snapped, her cheeks firing bright red. Gods, why was she never able to think of any witty comebacks when it actually _mattered_?!

"Glorfindel! I did not expect to see you until nightfall!" Came Aragorn's voice, and Elle watched, mortified, as he too joined the group at the base of her tree to clap a hand to the leader's shoulder.

"I was just outside of Rivendell, along the border. I came immediately after speaking with Arwen." The leader, Glorfindel, explained as he returned Aragorn's embrace.

"How is Frodo?" Aragorn asked, and Elle leant down in anticipation for his answer.

"He did not look well, but Arwen assured me that he was going to be fine." Glorfindel said, "She was to take him to her father when we parted ways."

Aragorn relaxed, and Elle felt herself soar with joy.

They made it! Frodo would live!

Her happiness was cut short, however, as the Ranger finally noticed the amused glances of the men up into the tree, and followed their eyes to a very sheepish-looking Elle who was currently tucking her dress between her legs to avoid being seen.

"Lady Elle? What are you doing up there?"

"You know this woman?" Glorfindel asked before she could answer.

"Aye," Aragorn replied, "She is under Gandalf's protection, watching over the hobbits until he returns."

"Returns?" The stranger questioned.

"Excuse me!" Elle broke in irritably, "I'm right here, and I'd really love to get down. Can you please look away?"

They had the decency to look a little shamefaced, each turning their backs so as to let her crawl down with her pride intact.

Her reflexes were astonishing, coming from someone who couldn't even carry a glass of water to the table without spilling half of it. Elle was on the ground with ease in under a minute, hands on hips as she informed them that they could now look.

She was shocked to find that the six strangers were all elves, standing tall and proud with their pale skin, pointed ears and long, golden hair. Not to mention, they were all ridiculously good looking. It was just _not_ fair for men to look this beautiful.

And no wonder they'd called her little. They all had to be over 6 ft tall each, with nicely toned muscles to boot. Honestly, if all elves carried themselves like these guys, she was in deep shit once she got to Rivendell.

Their captain, Glorfindel, was particularly appealing. His dark gold hair reached just below the broad width of his shoulder blades, straight as the arrows he kept on his back. With a strong-cut jaw, high cheekbones and full lips, Elle had little doubt that he could be a top model if he had been born on Earth.

His blue eyes sparkled knowingly as she perused his form, and when her eyes snapped back to his face in embarrassment he offered her a quick smirk and a wink before looking back to Aragorn.

"Where is Gandalf?"

Aragorn shrugged, "Lady Elle believes that he was delayed during his search for knowledge. We do not know what has transpired since."

Glorfindel turned and appraised her just as curiously as she had him, though he had little respect for subtlety.

"_Lady_ Elle? How peculiar."

Elle glared up at the rude stranger, wishing that poking her tongue out was still a valid argument in the adult world. Instead she kept her mouth shut, fully aware that it was the generosity of these men that would soon have her on horseback and in a nice, warm bed by dinner.

"Strider?" Sam's voice called through the undergrowth, Pippin and Merry trotting on behind. He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the six Elven warriors, armed for battle.

"Gentlemen, this is Glorfindel and his squadron. He has come to escort us safely to Rivendell." Aragorn addressed the hobbits, encouraging them to step forward.

Glorfindel nodded his head in acknowledgment, "Speaking of which, we had best leave now if you hope to arrive before the morrow."

The Ranger agreed, leading them back toward the campsite. Elle followed behind grudgingly, keeping her distance from the smug elves.

With haste they packed up their minimal belongings, tugging behind a sleepy Bill as the elves took them back to their waiting steeds.

Elle gasped in delight upon seeing the exquisite white and silver horses, their coats shining brilliantly in the sun. She approached the nearest one with earnest, holding out a hand to let the giant, gentle beast muzzle at her palm.

"His name is Asfaloth, my Lady." Glorfindel said from behind her, before leading the steed away and bouncing up into the saddle.

There was but one spare horse for Aragorn, the rest of them having to share with the elves. Elle sat behind one with wavy, honey brown hair and a warm smile. He introduced himself as Lhaindor, and assisted her up into the saddle with refined poise.

Elle had never ridden a horse before but had always wanted to give it a try. She adored the look of them, and their lovely nature.

For the first few hours she was enjoying herself immensely. Her feet no longer hurt from walking, and she could happily admire the scenery without having to watch for roots or overturned stones to stumble over. Plus, Lhaindor had the same spicy, flower-like scent Arwen exuded and it smelt pretty damn good.

After the fifth hour had passed however, she was really starting to get bored. Her ass was smarting like a bitch from the fast pace of the horse, sending her jostling up and down in the saddle with each step and making the experience increasingly unpleasant.

Both of her legs were cramped, and the pack still strapped to her shoulders was thumping uncomfortably against her lower back.

"Are we almost there?" Elle asked the elf for the third time, not bothering to hide the discomfort from her voice.

"Soon, my Lady."

Elle huffed, impatient for a decent meal, a bath and a chance to stretch her poor legs. But then they rounded the corner of the narrow cliff pass, and all coherent thoughts fled.

It's one thing to see Rivendell depicted on film or in art, but... It's an _entirely_ different experience to behold the magnificent city in person.

Nestled in the pit of a valley, surrounded by craggy cliffs and towering mountains, Rivendell took her breath away. It was perfectly situated to catch the glow of the sun at all times of day, bathing it in golden light. Everything was still, calm, serene. Elle had never even imagined that such beauty could exist.

"Welcome to Rivendell, my Lady." Lhaindor spoke, sensing her behind him as she craned her neck for a better look.

"You actually _live_ here?" She breathed, eyes drinking in the silver spires of the city, broken up by autumn-tinged trees and tumbling waterfalls.

"I do." Lhaindor indulged the girl, following behind as the group unconsciously picked up speed with their home in sight.

"Wow."

By the time they reached the engraved gates of Rivendell, night had fallen. Elle was grateful to finally be on solid ground, smiling at Lhaindor in thanks as he lifted her from the saddle and placed her carefully on her feet.

Gods, her arse hurt. And her thighs. And her back. And, well, pretty much everything.

Straining, she hobbled over to the Ranger's side.

"Welcome, friends, to Rivendell!" Glorfindel smiled broadly at them all, gesturing toward a group of well-dressed elves waiting patiently nearby, "Come, Lord Elrond will greet you now."

Elle huddled close to the hobbits, mimicking their actions as they all stared up in overwhelmed awe at the shining city, flecked by torchlight in the night. She felt as if her eyes couldn't soak in enough things at once.

Her gaze was stolen shortly by the figures standing in the candlelight, their expressions one of welcome.

"Greetings, Lord Elrond." Aragorn said, stepping forward as he dipped into a courteous bow, "My thanks for your assistance and hospitality."

The ethereal, dark-haired elf raised a hand, waving away the Ranger's words, "It is no trouble to help a friend, Aragorn."

His voice was gentle, his expression serene. While he could not have been a day past thirty-five, Elrond's eyes held such powerful wisdom that he gave the impression of being thousands of years older.

Elle shook herself, of _course_ he was thousands of years older. He was an elf, genius.

The hobbits whispered amongst themselves beside her, her keen hearing catching their words as they mumbled in confusion. They didn't seem to understand Lord Elrond calling the Ranger by his true name, their suspicion rising. She'd forgotten that they didn't know of his real title, and resisted the urge to giggle evilly at the upcoming conversation Aragorn would now have to have to explain.

But then she remembered her predicament with not quite being truthful about her own self, and fell awkwardly silent.

Distracting herself, Elle perused the unfamiliar faces of the elves around them. The only one she could recognise was the radiant she-elf, Arwen, standing by her father's side in similar robes of white. She looked stunning, sharing a smile with Elle from where she stood amongst her father's advisors.

Aragorn inclined his head toward Lord Elrond once more, before making the necessary introductions.

"These are my companions; Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Samwise Gamgee of the Shire. They escorted Frodo Baggins to Bree." Aragorn said, pointing each of them out until he came to stop at Elle.

"And this..." He paused, "...Is the Lady Elle, of Sydney. She is under Gandalf's instruction to watch over the hobbits."

All eyes were on her, and Elle felt as if she'd love the floor to swallow her up right about now. Lying to the boys had been traumatic enough, but now she was lying to _elves_? It just didn't sit right with her.

"Masters Peregrin, Meriadoc, Samwise, and our Lady Elle; please make yourselves at home. You may rest here for however long you see fit to." Lord Elrond spoke softly, his eyes burning curiously on Elle. She quickly looked away from his discerning blue gaze, heat prickling nervously beneath her skin.

Elves couldn't read minds, could they?

"Thank you." They all mumbled as one, shuffling awkwardly at the entrance to his grand estate.

"What of the hobbit, Frodo? How is he?" Aragorn asked the question that had been on all of their lips, before anything more could be said.

"Frodo is doing well, considering. He will be unconscious for another two days or so while his body repairs the internal damage, but he will live." Lord Elrond was glad to respond, smiling genially as all of them expressed their relief and gratitude over the good news.

"Come now, my guests. We have food to be offered, baths to be had and warm beds to enjoy." Lord Elrond said after their excitement had died down, turning to lead the way into Rivendell.

Elle looked up, marvelling over the stunning architecture as they followed after Lord Elrond. The palace, for she felt that the term was dutifully fitting here, was decorated in shades of grey oak and varying tones of the setting sun. Pastel oranges, golds, browns and greens warmed the eyes, sending a feeling of reverence and security tingling to her toes.

She felt completely at peace within the walls of Imladris. Even the wolf proved to be no challenge, quite happy to bide it's time contently within as they wandered through the spacious, airy halls.

There were no glass panes in the tall, arch shaped windows, just open space that somehow managed to keep the air at a perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold; Just right.

A symphony of voices began singing far off within the grounds, in the same foreign language Aragorn had used earlier when speaking with Arwen. Sindarin, was it? In any case, the elvish music was hauntingly beautiful, weaving through the trees as more unseen elves picked up the tune and joined in.

Elle felt as if she shouldn't dare make a noise, fearful she might disturb the peace and the elves would stop their soothing hymns. She could stay here and listen to this forever.

"How do you fair, Lady Elle?" Arwen asked as she stepped in beside her.

Elle glanced up at the tall elf nervously, "I'm good, thanks. You?"

Arwen puzzled for a moment over the human's unusual speech before answering, "I am well, thank you. My father has asked if you would join him in a few days time, so that he might discuss how you came to be here?"

Elle gulped. Uh, oh.

"Sure, sounds good." She replied, faking a smile.

Arwen grinned back at her, "Wonderful. Your quarters are right next to mine, so if you have any questions or just want someone to show you around, I won't ever be too far."

"Thanks!" Elle chirped back, feeling horribly guilty.

Lord Elrond led the company through the twisting, winding halls of Imladris, deep into the heart of the city. Elle felt overwhelmed by the raw, captivating beauty of it all, detailed in the smallest of ways to the greatest of masterpieces. The views were breathtaking and the halls open to the elements, with the constant drum of the waterfalls like a distant song only adding to the tranquility.

The three hobbits stuck close to her the entire time, Merry even going so far as to take her hand once more to comfort her. She'd grown fond of them during their journey, and it seemed like her feelings were mutual. Even if they had come quite close to death, Elle supposed that that was probably the only reason they all felt so bonded.

Lord Elrond stopped at a large, spacious hallway swathed in the gentle light of the crescent moon.

"This is where I leave you. Arwen shall show you to your rooms, and I'm sure you will all have time to see the grounds in the light of a new day. Rest now; I bid you all a good night."

"B-but what about Mr. Frodo? Can we see him, sir?" Sam stammered, speaking up for the first time since they'd entered through the gates.

Lord Elrond shook his head kindly, "I am sorry, Master Gamgee. It is late, and Frodo needs rest and healing. I will, however, send someone in the morn to escort you to his ward, so that you might all have a chance to see him."

Sam wasn't all too pleased about this but he nodded his head obediently anyway, respectful of all that the elf had done for them.

Aragorn, rather than retire for the evening, left with Lord Elrond to further discuss Frodo's well being, and the unforeseen presence of the Ring in Rivendell.

Elle wanted to go with him, but he'd refused. Even when she'd stamped her foot in annoyance, Aragorn had sent Arwen a look that had her taking the human's arm and steering her in the opposite direction.

_Stupid, fuckwit Ranger's and their sexist, patriarchal crap!_ Elle fumed silently, stomping alongside Arwen's dainty steps.

Hadn't she proved she was trustworthy by now? Hadn't she been the one who'd defended and protected the boys after Aragorn had bailed on them? It riled her up to no end to know she wasn't allowed to have any say in their plans, especially knowing that they would probably be discussing _her_.

The hobbits each got their own room, conjoined so that they wouldn't feel too alone in the large, foreign city. Elle said her goodbyes, spying their beds behind their doors with keen interest. Only now did she finally realise just how drained she was.

Stifling a yawn, she followed Arwen up a twisting flight of stairs to yet another long and open hall. Her room was the very first on the right, it's door of ivory wood adorned with the falling shapes of leaves and stars.

"The _vartyo_ have left a warm meal for you here. You may bathe either now, or tomorrow morning. Whichever you wish, Lady Elle." Arwen said as she opened the door and led Elle inside.

"It's just Elle, actually." She corrected, before the words died in her throat.

The room was not at all alike to her one back home, or even the one she'd stayed in at the inn. This one, like the rest of Imladris, was carved exquisitely from white and grey oak to simulate the feel of being in the depth of the forest.

Engraved vines and tree branches wrapped around the columns of her four-poster bed and arced across the arched windows, reaching across the roof until they met in the middle, forming an unusual dome shape. There was no fireplace, but the room was nice and warm and just to her liking. Burning, white candles perched on most available surfaces to add light and a feeling of warmth, but mostly they were just for show.

"This is _beautiful_." Elle breathed, wandering in and trailing her fingers along anything and everything in reach.

Arwen smiled, appreciating the human's excitement, "Yes, it is. You may stay here for however long you need, Elle."

"Thank you." She said, barely containing her squeal of joy when she spied the meal laid out on a small table by the window. Her stomach practically howled.

_Oh food, how I've missed you!_

"Would you prefer to bathe now, or in the morning?"

Elle turned to Arwen, almost missing what she'd said. She grinned apologetically as her brain caught on, "If we'd got here an hour earlier I would've jumped at the chance, but I'm bloody starving. I need to eat first, and knowing me I'll crash right after. Do you think you can take me to a bath tomorrow?"

Arwen laughed, "Of course, I expected as much. I will leave you to rest now and come for you in the morning. Good night."

Elle watched as she left, feeling a little gross for turning down the chance to clean herself. Especially after the amount she'd sweated in the past days. But priorities took precedent, and she desperately needed to eat.

She guesstimated it would probably be around 11:00pm now, and while normally she might've been able to stay up in to the wee hours of the night, today was not the case. She was knackered, and needed a decent nights sleep in an actual, proper bed.

Wasting no time now that Arwen had left, Elle dived into her dinner. It was completely vegetarian, much to her liking, and quite a diverse range too. Some sort of heated veggie patty stuffed with herbs, lentils and a delicious melted sauce she'd never tasted before, with a side of chickpea salad and sliced apples.

At least, she thought they were chickpeas. Hoped they were, would be the better term.

After she'd filled her belly to the brim and was as satisfied as she could possibly get, Elle began the slow task of stripping herself of her tattered new dress.

She'd had it for barely a week, and it was already destroyed! She had no idea what she was supposed to wear for the rest of her time here, but it wasn't something she wanted to worry about right now.

Once she was left in only her threadbare chemise and a nice, protruding food baby, Elle stumbled over to the bed and slid between the crisp, soft grey sheets, lifting the mint patterned doona up to her chin as she went.

The smooth, costly fabric felt fantastic against her body. She could already feel the aches and pains seeping away as her tight muscles unwound for the night. Elle blinked the sleepy haze from her eyes, staring up into the night sky from the nearest window. It was ablaze with lights, and she let out a small breath in wonder.

Why had she not been looking _up_ this entire time?

Too excited by everything around her, she'd never thought to. And, somehow, she'd been missing the absolute work of art above. Swirling galaxies and cosmos lit up the night sky like dazzling fireworks, putting nothing but shame on the excuse of stars she had grown accustomed to back home.

She couldn't recognise any of them, which wasn't saying all that much seeing as how she could really only identify the Southern Cross. But still, she couldn't even find _that_.

It really only served to drive in just how far from home she really was. In an entirely different _dimension_. It was crazy, yet more thrilling than she could have ever imagined.

Closing her eyes, Elle shoved the pillow out from under her head as she preferred to sleep and smiled. This was a new beginning for her. She was in _Rivendell_ for crying out loud, surrounded by elves and other magical creatures. Heck, she was now one of them!

Her thoughts turned to Radagast, wondering if he'd found his mark and alerted the Eagles to Gandalf's predicament. Was the old wizard on his way to Imladris right now? What would he say when he found her here?

Her stomach clenched uncomfortably. Would he be angry? And what of Aragorn, and the hobbits? Would they hate her, and turn from her in fear and disgust when they found out what she was? What she was capable of?

Here she was, a guest in Lord Elrond's home, using falsity and lies to slither her way in. She never thought she could be this wily, and wondered if that was a trait of the wolf showing through, or if it were her own survival instincts that were helping her keep up the lie.

For a moment she twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable and shut down for the night. She was still buzzing; going so hard for so long was difficult to turn off.

But then the elves picked up their song once more, drifting in like the soothing starlight from her open windows.

Elle was asleep in seconds.

* * *

This was the third morning in a row that Elle had been woken by the rising sun. When had her life become something dictated by the availability of daylight, rather than the norm of an irritating alarm clock?

She threw her covers over her head, deciding she'd have much preferred a pair of curtains and an alarm set to her liking.

After realising there was just little to no point in trying to get back to sleep now that she was wide awake, Elle gave up and peeked her head out into the blinding sunshine.

Yep, she was definitely still in Rivendell.

So last night _hadn't_ been a beautiful dream, after all. Her smile grew until she was beaming like a complete dork, all grumpiness of the early morning wake up call erased.

_She was in Rivendell!_

And holy crap did she have a good sleep. It was literally like laying back upon a mattress of clouds.

Mhmm, she could definitely get used to this.

Elle padded across the cool marble floors and perched herself on a teal window seat, staring out across the grounds as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

If it was even possible, Rivendell was somehow more beautiful during the day. Whereas the night had been empty of all life, today the place flowed like a pleasant breeze with the constant thrum of activity. It was like watching a flower bloom, opening up to the eager rays of dawn.

Men and women (_well, technically elves_) lingered throughout the gardens, or walked swiftly through open hallways below. Reading, writing, singing, embroidering; It didn't matter, but it was all for leisure.

A soft knock echoed from the door, and Elle turned reluctantly from the view as she called for whoever it was to come in.

Arwen, followed by a sweet-looking elven girl with ringleted ash-blonde locks, glided through the door in airy robes of pale lilac.

"Good morning, Elle." Arwen greeted with a smile as she swept over to her by the window, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine, thanks," Elle replied, somewhat distracted as she watched the little elf place a wooden tray on the table and begin pouring out a steaming green drink into two dainty, goblet-like tea cups, "You?"

Her eyes arrowed in on the two covered plates. Breakfast was on that tray, and she was starving.

"I was thinking we might break our fast together, and then I can take you to the baths? Frodo will be fine to have visitors around noon. He is still unconscious, and had a rough night last night, but he is healing." Arwen chattered away, taking Elle to sit over at the table.

"Okay, sure. Sounds nice." Elle replied, taking the offered goblet from the young elf and inhaling tentatively.

It smelt nice, like peppermint tea, so she took a small sip.

The hot liquid warmed her insides exquisitely, a slightly spicier version of the tea she was used to back home. Elle sighed in undisguised pleasure.

"This is Feriel, she will be your _vartyo_ during your stay. If you have need for anything at all, she will see to it that it is done." Arwen explained as the elven girl, Feriel, curtsied before helping Elle slip into a long, white lounging robe with drastic accents of lace to cover up her chemise.

The gown had open bell sleeves, and hooked down the front with a fitted bodice. It was simple but scant, and due to it's delicate nature and impracticality, was obviously not fit for much more than lazing about in the privacy of ones home.

"I hope it fits. It's one of my own, I had the hem and sleeves shortened a tad bit last night for you." Arwen said as Feriel hooked the last button in.

Elle wasn't really one for dresses, but so far it seemed that they were the norm for women of this age. At least this one was quite beautiful, and a far cry from the torn up mess she'd been wearing.

It fit well, though Elle was somewhat curvier and toned in comparison to Arwen's straight and slender form.

"This is so nice of you," Elle said as she inspected herself, "Thank you so much."

"No need to thank me, it's a gift."

Elle sat down across from the she-elf, the fabric rustling softly.

"Feriel can be very shy," Arwen smiled as she dismissed the girl, "But she is an innocent. She will treat you well."

After they ate (_Elle could've died with how happy she was; the entire platter of blueberry crepes and fresh fruit salad gone in minutes_), Arwen stood and said she would escort her to the baths.

Elle wasn't too sure what she meant by _baths_, but assumed it was some kind of communal bathroom, like they have at public pools or the beach. She didn't really know what would be appropriate to wear there, but Arwen assured her that the lounging robe would be fine for now. It was a relief to be able to walk around on the cool, smooth marble floor without her boots on. She'd been living in them for far too long now.

They passed a few elves on the way, Elle ducking her head in embarrassment of her bedraggled appearance. Everyone they met seemed to stop and greet Arwen with shining words of kindness and praise. Obviously she was a much loved elf here in Rivendell, and had many admirers and friends.

"We are very fortunate to be surrounded by flowing rivers and waterfalls in Imladris," Arwen told Elle as she took her further down and underneath the grand city, "We always have fresh, running water. The baths are just down here..."

The walls had some time ago turned cave-like, dripping with moisture and echoing with the rush of water moving fast through unseen chasms. The air was warmer down here, too, and smelt of salt and earth and rock.

They turned down a curved stone staircase, and the narrow cave opened up into a massive arena. The walls were open and depicted a magnificent view of the valley and distant mountains, with arches carved naturally into the rock. Some let in water, while others dispersed of it. The unnatural blue light of the baths danced upon the roof, forever changing and casting unusual patterns above.

"This is incredible." Elle said, her voice ricocheting off the walls. There were stone pathways in between the hollowed-out pools dug in to the rock, small holes within allowing the water to flow slowly through and become heated as they went, before being pushed back out and down into the waterfall below.

Arwen smiled pleasantly, walking over to some indents in the cave wall nearby. She reached in and pulled out two towels, and a few small bottles of what Elle could only guess must be toiletries.

"This way." Arwen said, gesturing with her head in the opposite direction. They walked until they reached the furthest corner, shrouded privately from the rest.

"You may bathe here. I understand humans can be very strict in upholding their moral decency for privacy as is your laws, for your women especially. We elves are far more attuned with our bodies, and do not mind being exposed as so in front of others." Arwen explained, thinking she was doing Elle a great service as she continued on.

Which, you know, she _was_. But Elle was from 2014, so nudity had never really been the life or death problem Arwen was making it out to be. Honestly, she'd probably spent more time running about naked as a child and skinny dipping at the beach than she'd care to admit.

Not that she did that much now, in adulthood. She did prefer to have that privacy at this stage of her life. But still, she was just taking a bath, not shooting a porno. The way Arwen was saying it, it sounded like to be communally bathing in any other city here would be unthinkable, and have had her beheaded within the hour.

Obviously her 21st Century lifestyle would be a major culture shock. Mini skirts and bikini's would likely end up giving these humans a heart attack. Or, at the very least have them chasing after her shouting, '_Witch_!'.

Ignorant of her internal musings, Arwen carried on placing the towels by the edge of the bath. Which, by the way, resembled more of a spa at some luxurious retreat than anything else.

"Thanks." Elle said gratefully, taking the offered soaps and bottles from Arwen's hand.

"I will be on the other side of this wall, so do not fear. Nobody will come in unannounced." Arwen joked, before leaving the room for Elle to wash.

She wasted no time in pulling off her robe and tearing her chemise over her head. With a dip of her toe she checked the temperature to find it perfect, and jumped straight in with a grin of delight.

The pool was deep, lapping at her shoulders when she stood, with a ledge of stone ringing the outside for one to sit comfortably and wash.

After inspecting the bottles Arwen had provided, and sniffing their contents dubiously, she found one to contain some sort of bathing oil, another two the Middle-Earth version of shampoo and conditioner, while the last appeared to be a body moisturiser.

She scrubbed and rubbed until her skin smelt of gardenias and geranium, before washing out her hair and taking her sweet time doing so. Hey, with the way things had been going so far, she had no idea when next she'd have the option of a bath.

When she was done and the pool was filled with soap suds and bubbles, Elle thought it might be a good time to relax for a moment. She was fed, she was clean, and she was well rested. So far, this had been the calmest she'd felt in Middle-Earth.

She'd read of the healing qualities Rivendell possessed, knew of the good that it would bring to the Fellowship before their journey truly began, but had never really _understood_ just how meditative and restorative the elven city really was. Elle could actually feel the salts in the water leeching the exhaustion from her bones, soothing the frailty of her overwhelmed mind.

She was, quite frankly, in heaven.

"Do you like it here?" Elle called out after a moment of floating on her back, eyes closed and dark hair swirling like a cloud around her.

When Arwen didn't reply right away, Elle thought the elf might not have heard her over the roar of the waterfalls. But just as she was about to repeat herself a little louder, Arwen replied;

"Yes, it's my home. Occasionally... things can get a little stale and uninteresting, but something always happens to pick it back up again."

Elle chuckled dryly, "Like four hobbits, a girl and a Ranger arriving on your doorstep?"

"Precisely." The smile was evident in Arwen's voice.

"I'm sorry you're stuck babysitting me." Elle said after a moment.

"Don't be," Arwen chided, "I offered. It's not often we have female humans here. Mostly it's just men and elves travelling through."

"I get the feeling you don't normally have a lot of company." Elle replied twisting in the water so that she came to rest her chin on the cool edge of the stone. From here, Elle could just make out the back of Arwen's head from behind the purposefully hole-mottled wall.

"No, not usually." Arwen conceded, "There are some elleths I spend my time with, but they are women of court and not interested in the life I am drawn to."

"I get that," Elle said wistfully, "Back home I lived with this girl, Harley, she was an absolute princess. I wasn't into that kind of stuff, either."

Arwen laughed, "Exactly. I much prefer the life of a human anyway, you have so many more options. You burn so bright, and so quickly, and fulfil _so_ _much_ in that short amount of time. Life would be much more exciting, I think."

Elle snorted ungracefully, "It's not always that black and white, unfortunately. Most people completely waste their lives away doing nothing. Sad to say I was one of them for a while."

After that they both fell quietly into their own separate brooding for a while, before Elle's skin started to prune and she decided it was about time to get out.

The oils that glistened across the surface of the pool were close to overpowering her sensitive nose. She was almost glad to lift herself out of the water and away from the heady scent, before drying herself off with a towel.

Elle's brows furrowed with disgust at the sight of her soiled chemise, appalled that she'd actually _slept_ in that. Middle-Earth was doing something to her brain, to be putting good hygiene behind everything else.

Disregarding the dirty item, Elle instead wrapped herself in the lounging robe she'd been provided with. The material wasn't thick, but it was opaque enough not to show any of her important bits to the rest of the world.

"I'm done." Elle said, stepping around the wall and smiling down at where Arwen sat with her legs dangling into the bath.

She offered a hand to help her up, which Arwen took. Instead of letting go of her hand though, she gasped and raised it to her nose in shock.

"Your nails, Elle! They are blue! Are you ill?!"

Elle burst out laughing as Arwen inspected her hands for infection, "No, I'm fine. It's just a... Varnish type thing, that you paint on nails to colour them. It's for fun, not dangerous. I promise."

"You did this on _purpose_? Why?" Arwen furrowed her brows, touching the blue paint with unsure fingers.

Elle shrugged, "Where I come from, it's something girls do to feel pretty I guess."

"You're very strange." Arwen said matter-of-factly, tilting her head and perusing her as if she were some sort of scientific specimen. The term 'under the microscope' popped to mind, and Elle continued towelling her wet hair with a laugh.

"Thanks. Shall we get going?"

Somehow it felt much longer leaving the caves than it did in getting there, already missing the calming qualities of the baths and the serene roar of the water in her ears. To pass the time until Frodo could receive visitors, Elle decided to find the hobbits and see if they'd like to come for a tour. Arwen had said she'd be happy to show them around, talking of the gardens and the famed Annals of Rivendell.

She knew Sam would be especially keen, yesterday he hadn't shut up about it. But a commotion outside caught their attention before they could find them, the buzzing of confused elves tickling at her ears.

Elle followed Arwen to the nearest balcony, peering up from the ledge as they watched on with the growing crowd in amazement. Her eyes nearly bugged out, disbelieving of what she was actually seeing.

A giant eagle of golden-brown was circling above, the elves below curiously pointing up and debating as to why the great beast was here.

It couldn't be an Eagle of the Eyrie, could it? She had never even _dreamed_ that they could look so majestic, or make her feel so... ensnared and captivated.

Her mouth was definitely hanging open. Not a very attractive picture, but she just couldn't find the will to care.

Suddenly it swooped, and everyone scattered with cries of fear as the magnificent bird plummeted to the ground. Elle was frozen to the spot, eyes wide as she watched the eagle withdraw at the last second and delicately place an elderly man in long grey robes and a crooked, conical hat on to the grass, before taking off once more in a violent blast of wind and a cry that shook the leaves from the trees.

Elle watched the bird depart like a burnished bullet in the blue sky, before everyone's attention glued back onto the lone figure standing crookedly on the grass. She squinted, waiting for the old man to turn around so she could see his face. And when he did, she gasped audibly.

_That's Gandalf._

Ignoring Arwen's calls to wait, Elle lifted the hem to her lounging robe and ran through the hall to the closest set of stairs. She rushed down, pushing past a group of elves and headed straight for the wizard who was currently bending his hunched form back to loosen out the kinks.

"Gandalf!" Elle cried out, just in time to see a pair of surprised blue eyes capture hers before she skidded to a stop mere feet away from him.

"Do I know you, child?" The wizard asked, his voice oddly hoarse from dehydration as he straightened himself to his full height.

It was only now that Elle noticed the faded purple bruise on his forehead, and the dried blood matted within his beard.

Right, he had been a prisoner for days now at the twisted hands of Saruman.

"N-no." Elle stuttered, realising that while she felt as if she knew this man, he for one had never seen her before in his life. At least Radagast had been successful in finding the Eagles' to rescue the old man. Always a plus. But had he told the wizard of her little problem like he said he had?

Going by the blank, unregistered look on Gandalf's face, it didn't really seem so.

"Well then, could you perhaps assist me in fetching Lord Elrond?"

"I am here, Gandalf." The familiar, formal tone of the ancient elf broke in, and Elle glanced back to see Elrond approaching with his daughter.

The wizard relaxed with a warm smile, "Elrond, my old friend."

Elle's eyes flicked nervously between the two, very aware that they'd just witnessed Gandalf not recognising a damn thing about her.

Why was she so _stupid_? Instead of acting off of rational thought, she'd ran out to him on mere impulse like an over excitable toddler. Man, she was screwed.

"I have known you as a wizard fond for his eccentrics, but this reaches new heights even for you. An Eagle, Gandalf? You always were a sucker for entrances." The elf teased as he stepped forward to embrace his friend.

Gandalf laughed richly, "Much has transpired, Elrond. The aid of Gwaihir was an unfortunate necessity."

It seemed that Lord Elrond had now too noticed the wizard's roughened appearance, his expression growing sombre as he asked, "What has happened to you, Gandalf? Did you say Gwaihir?"

"Perhaps we should discuss these things privately?" Gandalf said, "And with a few more creature comforts."

"Of course." Lord Elrond inclined his head.

"Lady Arwen, it is a pleasure to see you again." Gandalf greeted the she-elf.

"The pleasure is mine, as always." Arwen replied with a composed smile.

Elle stood there, gaping like an idiot in comparison. Jeez, she would never get used to this place. They had all just witnessed a wizard fly in unannounced on the back of a mythical bird, and everyone was acting as if it were just an average morning.

Elle, on the other hand, was almost positive that they could hear the rapid beating of her heart, and she for one could definitely smell the nervous sweat gathering between her clammy palms.

It only got worse seeing as how her cover had practically just been blown, and she'd probably be getting herself locked up in some dank, forgotten dungeon with no windows and only one measly meal a day under charges of fraud and werewolfism. Wait, was that even a word?

She was so, so screwed.

However, instead of turning to her and demanding answers or pointing a decrepit finger and screaming freak, the two swept off without a second glance in Elle's direction. She felt incredibly uncomfortable, and more than a little overlooked.

Didn't Radagast say Gandalf would be told of her presence, and would help to explain why she was here? Or, you know, at least reassure the rest of them that she wasn't a rabid animal about to rip their gizzards out.

_Get a grip, Elle_, She reminded herself with a growl, _The man's just been through hell and back. A weird-ass, realm-confused wolf girl is probably the least of his worries right now._

"He looks terrible." Arwen stated as they watched the wizard hobble off, "How do you know him again?"

Ah.

"Um, from stories and things... He's pretty big where I come from." Elle improvised, floundering for something to say.

"Sounds important. What's Sydney like? Is it very different to Rivendell?"

Elle almost laughed with relief. Ask, and ye shall receive.

"Yeah, very different. Our buildings are tall and boring, they reach way up to the sky and are usually grey stone or glass. Pretty ugly, if you ask me. There isn't as many trees as there are here, but we do have some lovely beaches."

She talked of home as they walked back up into the estate, going along with their earlier plans to meet up with the hobbits. Maybe if she went about her days normally and unobtrusively, nobody would even question why she was there. Arwen for one was immersed in the wondrous tales of Sydney, wanting to know more about her strange land, and Elle was only too happy to provide the distraction.

It was perfect for her, because she _really_ didn't want to explain why Gandalf hadn't recognised her. Her insides twisted anxiously, roiling inside with fear.

Of course, they would eventually find out. She couldn't run from who she was forever, as much as she'd like to. She was in a strange land, a dangerous land, and like it or not she needed their help. She couldn't just run away. No, she just had to wait for the other shoe to drop.

And when they did find out, she'd be dubbed a liar and a demon.

Would she be rejected? Feared? ...Hated? Would they try to kill her, or just lock her away until she died naturally? The thought of their acceptance was almost too hopeful to entertain. She wasn't _normal_ after all, not even for their standards. Her nature was first and foremost one of evil. She actually had to _try_, and try hard, to be good.

And okay, when did she become the Frankenstein monster? Flashbacks of High School English studies swam before her eyes; of the misunderstood monster being chased by jeering hoards of peasants, complete with pitchforks and flaming torches as they screamed out fearful obscenities and propaganda.

Elle squeezed her eyes shut tight, ignoring her overactive imagination as she tried to explain for Arwen's sake why it was that they didn't use horses in her land, without spilling the beans on motorised vehicles.

It felt good, to talk about home. She hadn't really realised how much she missed it until now. And yeah, okay, so she didn't miss the people per say. But Australia would always have a place in her heart. It would always be familiar; her home.

Her mind was so a flutter with stress, she didn't even notice the journey to the hobbits' dorm. Without warning she was standing at their door, with Arwen pushing her in first to the happy greetings of the boys.

When would those pleased smiles change? Soon? Today? Or maybe tomorrow, or a week from now. Whenever the timing, it would likely have the same results. She could only wish that they'd all go easy on her, try to be understanding.

Experience, however, told her people rarely ever were.

After a light lunch with the boys - Pippin especially glad to see her as he'd thought (_seeing as how she never appeared in the morning as promised_) that the elves must have bewitched and kidnapped her like the many tales suggested - the girls and the trio of hobbits all left to enquire after Frodo.

The poor boy was being held in the hospital ward, in an airy room that reminded Elle of a gazebo. It was high up and surrounded by trees and flowers, with a breeze tinkling like bells through the leaves.

Frodo was fast asleep in the middle of a large, white and gold bed decorated with spiritual effigies. His skin was pale, his eyes shadowed and dark. There was a bandage on his chest, hiding the angry wound from view.

Sam had near wept at the sight of him as they all took a seat at the edge of his bed, to hold on to his hands and brush back his limp, dark hair.

"What's wrong with him?" Merry asked, turning to Arwen and the healer who sat patiently nearby.

"He is in an induced coma." Arwen explained, "It will keep any pain he might feel from his mind and let him rest fully, but he will wake from it in a couple of days. When he is ready."

"He will live though, won't he?" Sam asked, not taking his watering eyes from the prone form of his best friend.

"Yes, he will Mr Gamgee. He may find he suffers great pain for the rest of his life from this wound, it is after all of such a severe nature. But he will live." The healer elf responded.

* * *

The next two days were spent by Frodo's side.

Wherever the three hobbits' went, Elle went. The group quickly became inseparable, and while Elle had enjoyed the tours they'd taken through Rivendell, none of them felt right unless they were by Frodo's bed. She almost felt responsible for them all, like a mother hen looking after her chicks.

She spent her time reading to them, from the tomes Arwen had leant her from Rivendell's equivalent to a library. Stories of great adventures, poetry and lifelong romance. Sometimes she would hum tunes from her world, and comb back Frodo's hair. She hadn't sung at all for anyone but Angie before, and the change was nice. The boys quickly became quite attached to her, as if they in turn felt a certain sense of responsibility for her.

Gandalf and Lord Elrond came and went a few times over the two days, the wizard properly introducing himself to Elle with an amused glint in his eyes. He did not mention Radagast, nor her involvement with the Fellowship, but rather went along with the story she had fabricated through silent acceptance.

Nobody questioned a thing. Although, on more than one occasion during shared meals, she'd catch Lord Elrond eying her with curious interest as if she were some puzzle he was trying to decipher.

It frustrated her to no end, to be aware that they were playing with her and being unable to do anything about it. She decided Radagast must have told Gandalf of her plight, otherwise she was sure he'd have approached the mystery of her presence far differently.

Clearly he was conscious of her need for a story, but she also knew it could not last long. Soon, she'd have to come clean with all of them.

Was Gandalf waiting for her to step forward? Or was he just as distracted by Frodo's ill wellbeing as the rest of them, and holding off for when the hobbit recovered?

Truthfully Elle had no idea why, and hadn't even had a chance to speak with him. He passed through so quickly there was hardly any time for much more than a hello. She was too afraid to seek him out in turn, though the waiting was slowly driving her mad.

Elle was strolling comfortably alongside Sam on the third morning of their arrival, as they took the winding passages up to the healing wards. They had slept in a little longer than usual, and were gossiping about this and that as they went.

It was great fun talking about the elves, especially since (_though they did not know it yet_) Elle could smell and hear if any of them were creeping nearby. It was almost like a game, not to get caught teasing their odd ways. She knew that they had just as good hearing as her, but their noses were not even slightly as powerful. She could scent out the elves from miles away, to exact locations no less.

So there they were, both giggling about the males immaculate grooming tendencies, when they heard voices.

They both stopped short and Elle took a breath in, scenting Frodo's familiar earthiness and another muskier aroma, like the smoke of a beach bonfire. _Someone_ was with Frodo, and someone was making a very much _awake_ Frodo laugh.

Elle and Sam looked to each other, before dashing off in full sprint in the direction of Frodo's room.

They both burst in, shock colouring their faces as they were treated to a delightful view of Frodo sitting up in the middle of his bed, a very imposing Gandalf seated in Elle's chair beside him.

"Frodo!" Sam crowed almost immediately, racing over from the doorway to grasp his friend's hand, "Bless you, you're awake!"

"Sam has hardly left your side." Gandalf said in his rumbling, deep voice, smiling at the two as they embraced.

"We were that worried about you, weren't we Mr Gandalf?" Sam added, beaming at Frodo.

Elle took a few tentative steps inside, unsure of her place in the group as she stood there awkwardly.

But then Frodo looked over to her, his face lighting up with recognition into an adoring smile, and she ran forward to clasp him into a hug as well.

"Thank goodness you're awake." She said, her voice muffled by his hair.

His eyes were red and looked sore and tired, and his sallow skin had lost the vibrancy of colour it usually pertained, but he was alive. He was awake.

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend." Gandalf said once they'd broken apart, and they all looked over to the man of the manor as he stepped in to the room.

His dark hair was pieced intricately down the sides of his face in small knots, falling below his waist as he inclined his head in greeting with a small smile.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

* * *

**So there it is! **

**Loved it, hated it? Lemme know guys, it does keep me going and help with knowing what my readers want and enjoy.**

**Also, don't know if anyone picked up on this, but the significance of Nine eagles was intended (Ie: Nine Ringwraiths, Nine members of the Fellowship... 'Till now. Hahah).**

**Please do remember to Review (honestly it makes my WEEK to see those!) and Favourite, too!**

**Also, I don't have a Beta (apart from my own weird-ass brain) so if you spot any mistakes let me know and I'll fix them ASAP.**

**Hope to see you all sooner rather than later!**

**\- T**

**xo**

_***EDIT* 28/5/14 **I am seriously considering discontinuing this story due to trolling and malicious comments. The Review section is for leaving Reviews on the content and quality of a story with the aim to improve, not for attacking authors notes or sending meaningless hateful words that aren't relevant to the story. It's pathetic that some people get their jollies that way, and reflects badly on the rest of us who are here to learn, to teach and to be entertained. If you're not here for those reasons, do not read this story. I have no patience for people holding tantrums. Get a life instead, and keep your hateful comments to yourself please. Thank you._


	7. Dark Secret

**I'm still alive!**

**Here is the much awaited sixth chapter, and I really can't even begin to thank you all for how you've stuck by me and encouraged me, without pushing or demanding. You've all been incredible, telling me to take my time and get through things. Not all of you know, but a family member of mine passed away so I've been dealing with a lot of family issues and such, as well as not having a home and splitting up with my partner. This chapter was a mission and a half to complete, but it's a very long one so hopefully that will make up for my absence!**

A HUGE thank you to: Bigglesworth. Kuon. Hanamaruko. Akasha Sundancer. Casper6six6. Tierney. DeLacus. Eldar0516. TheParanoidGraverobber. And a few other nameless Guests who have encouraged me on, and who are to thank for this chapter having come out at all! You guys are truly the best. If I've forgotten anyone, PLEASE let me know. It was not intentional, but as it's been over a few months my brain is kinda mushy over that.

And yes, Legolas makes his first appearance! As well as a few other much loved characters, so I do hope that I do them justice. This is just my interpretation of events and characters, not an exact rendition, so I do apologise if some may disagree. For the purpose of this work of fiction, written purely for fun, this is how I've imagined things.

**Anywho, keep that in mind when reading and enjoy!**

**\- Torrance Rose -**

* * *

Elvish words used:

_Meril - _Rose (Flower).

Chapter Title inspired by the song 'Dark Secret' by Matthew Sweet.

Unedited, as per usual. Let me know if you find mistakes!

* * *

"A Council Meeting has been called for tomorrow morning."

"What?" Elle glanced distractedly up from her book. She was reading through historical tomes, surreptitiously trying to study up on the Wolves of Mordor. _Trying_ being the figurative word, seeing as how she wasn't really getting anywhere.

Gandalf had finally requested her presence that afternoon, and Elle wanted to feel like she was going in somewhat prepared. But it was like digging for a pin in a haystack. There didn't seem to be much information on her supposed heritage whatsoever, at least not in the section of Annals she had access to.

Once or twice the Werewolves had been mentioned, as was a creature called Draugluin 'the Sire', but it was sporadic and barely referenced footnotes. She'd not even scratched the surface.

"A Council Meeting," Arwen repeated patiently from where she sat opposite her, "It's been called for ten o'clock tomorrow morning, they're to discuss the One Ring."

Elle blanched, "Are you serious? Why haven't I heard of this yet?"

The One Ring. The very thought sent a shiver up her spine. She had no idea how Frodo managed to wear that dreaded thing day in and day out, letting it suck the life out of him like some ugly parasite.

Arwen tilted her head curiously, "I do not jest, Elle. I'm quite serious. It's likely that my father did not wish for you to know. I myself am not permitted to be present, either."

Elle resisted the urge to snort at Arwen's otherworldly misunderstanding of the 21st Century phrase. Instead, she focused on her outrage at being left out of the loop of things, glaring across the sunlit gardens of Arwen's private courtyard.

She'd carried her own well enough these past couple of days, and proved herself more than trustworthy over the course of their journey from Bree. You'd think they'd have removed that pole of distrust from their asses by now, surrounding her involvement.

"What?! I'm not even allowed to go? That's bullshit!"

Arwen flinched, covering her mouth as she stifled a giggle into her hand, "Someone could hear you, Elle. Though, I do agree."

"I hope they hear me!" Elle grumbled, smacking a hand down on the polished marble bench they shared, "I've been in the thick of things before they even got involved! That's just not fair."

Arwen shrugged, "Of course it isn't. But you must be used to this sort of thing by now, it's not as if us women get an extraordinary amount of leeway when it comes to diplomatic decisions. Unless, of course, you are the Lady Galadriel."

Elle recognised the name, but couldn't quite put a face to it.

"Whatever, where I'm from women are equal to men." Elle replied with a sniff of disdain.

"We elleths are - to an extent - treated as equals, too. But again - to a degree - we should obey our fathers and our husbands, surely you must be familiar with that?" Arwen questioned, laying aside her book of poetry.

This time Elle couldn't contain her snort of derision, but she artfully dodged around the unwanted topic. She was not about to get into a debate on feminism and equal rights, not in a world damn near Medieval in comparison.

"Yeah, right, sure. I guess I've just been on my own so long I haven't really had anyone to answer to." She provided offhandedly, glancing back down at her book.

"Elle!" A voice hailed across the gardens, saving her from any more awkward questions she wasn't quite sure how to answer. She hastily put her book aside, just in time to brace herself for the two hobbits that came barrelling like wayward missiles into her arms.

"Oomph!" She wheezed as the wind was knocked out of her. Damn, these boys were built like sacks of potatoes.

"Sorry!" Pippin squeaked, patting her mussed hair back into place.

"It's fine," Elle rasped, "Where's your cousin?"

"Just went upstairs with Bilbo." Merry told her, plopping himself down on the last available space between the girls.

Elle had met Bilbo yesterday afternoon, to let him know that his nephew was awake and would be well enough to come and see him tomorrow. According to the boys the poor, ancient hobbit had aged dramatically in the span of a few short weeks. He'd been too frail, even, to traverse the many halls and staircases up into the hospital wing to visit Frodo.

Still, she'd had the same starstruck expression as when she'd first met Aragorn. And yeah, so she didn't remember a blasted thing about The Lord of the Rings or the fate of the Fellowship anymore, but she could still remember the tale of The Hobbit word for word. She'd actually been able to ask _Bilbo Baggins_ himself one or two things about his adventures, and the old hobbit had been nothing but thrilled to comply. When she'd started referring to him as 'the thief', he'd practically quivered and puffed up with pride.

Smiling quietly to herself, Elle was pulled from her thoughts as she was thwacked in the back of her head with a stick and jostled from her perch onto the dewy grass.

Both hobbits stilled in shock from where they sat wrestling for the spare seat beside her; Pippin with a weathered little branch in one hand and a grip on his friend in the other, and Merry with a fistful of Pippin's auburn-brown curls and a dangerous hold on his pointed ear.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" Elle growled as she rubbed the back of her throbbing head, Arwen falling into peals of laughter beside them.

"I'm so sorry, Elle!" Pippin began, scrambling from the stone bench as he came to help her up.

"I'm really, really sorry." Merry leapt to grasp her free hand, lifting her up from the floor, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," She grumbled, dusting her dress off. She was relieved there weren't any grass stains to mar the fine, peach fabric of the gown.

Another of the elvish masterpieces, stylised to fit her perfectly. Arwen had had three of her unused gowns, including the first white one, tailored for her stay. These first two were lounging day robes, and the third meant for more formal occasions and such. She was more than a little touched when she'd found them laying crisp and clean on her bed the second night here.

"Now that you _dunderheads_ are finished," She fixed them both with a hard glare, "I've got some reading to do. I'll be in the Annals, if anyone asks."

Snatching up her armful of books, Elle parted toward the library with a wave. She'd memorised the path there from these private gardens, and the path from the library to her room. They were pretty much the three things she was able to find on her own here, although she still hadn't figured out how to get down to the baths yet. Elle swore that there must be some sort of charm or whatever that was constantly rearranging the route. It was the only explanation. After all, she'd gotten pretty damn good at finding things with this new nose of hers.

She could tell her inability to locate the baths without the help of an elf to guide her irritated the wolf to no end, feeling somewhat incapable and invalid because of it. Which was ridiculous; she'd never understand the wolf's psyche and reasonings for these trivial things.

Her wolf didn't very much like the elves, which was funny. But for some unknown reason was almost as fond of the hobbits as she was. At one point when she'd been berating Merry for tricking Pippin into a nasty prank, the thought _mischievous little pups_ crossed her mind, and she knew for sure that those hadn't been her words.

The wolf's mind only seemed to be cementing itself within her, intertwining to the point of no return. Elle could hardly recall what it felt like to not have the beast within, to not have that primal presence waiting in the wings for her call. And, strangely enough, she didn't want to. In spite of everything, she wanted nothing more than to stay with her wolf. They belonged together. She could feel it.

She shuddered to think what it had been like as a baby to have been ripped apart. It would be like severing her own limbs with a butter knife, and Elle could only be thankful that she did not remember the experience.

No wonder she'd been a challenging baby.

Elle received a tight smile from the elvish equivalent to a Librarian as she walked in to the Annals; a room so vast and glorious she could happily live in here forever. Not that she could understand the majority of books in here, but there were sections in what Arwen had dubbed as the 'common tongue'.

She hadn't started off on the best of terms with the Librarians, nitpicking and poking at the way they ran the place. Their organisational system was a mystery to her, with little to no records or indexing. She had no idea how they located anything, and therefore constantly needed their aid to find the type of books she'd been looking for. Elle supposed it was sufficient enough. For, you know, a cave troll.

She crinkled her nose as she took a seat at the back by a large, open window. Of course, they probably _have_ cave trolls here so she shouldn't really joke about it.

The bay-window let in the sweetest breeze, and Elle found that the different scents wafting in greatly amused her wolf while she was busy reading. Plus, the view was spectacular and utterly charming in providing distraction.

It had been just a couple of days ago when Arwen had lent her a book to read to Frodo, that she'd become accustomed to the wolf's limited attention span and insubordinate nature.

She'd been happily reading, immersed in the story and enjoying herself, but was unbeknownst to her that the wolf had quickly grown bored of the mental exercise. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd slammed the book shut without any warning and darted up to go outside.

It was only Sam's sudden jump about a foot in the air that had her back-pedalling toward reality, and she had to actually _ask_ herself what the heck she was doing.

One sweep through her mind had her narrowing in on the problem. The wolf wanted to get out of the stuffy room; to move, to investigate, and to top it all off it was famished. She was having fun, but her dear little wolf wasn't having any of it. It wanted to hunt, and play, and explore. Not sit inside all day, cooped up and reading.

Ugh.

So they'd compromised. In the morning Elle, as usual, would wake with the sun to carry out her daily Tai Chi ritual. She'd picked it up again now that she wasn't on the run for her life, as well as a few of her yoga routines.

That benefited both of them, and while the wolf had been confused at first it had grown to anticipate the languorous stretches and powerful movements of their body. She would then have breakfast with Arwen (_except once, when the beautiful she-elf was requested to attend with her father_), bathe and would visit Frodo for the day. Once dusk had fallen, the night would belong to the wolf's inquisitive, adventurous side and she'd explore a bit by following an unusual scent, jogging throughout some of the gardens or pushing her limits by stalking random elves without being caught.

Not that she let it out or anything, she wasn't stupid. And actually, she didn't even know if she _could_ here in Rivendell. It had been no struggle at all, even after dark, to control the wolf. She decided that it must be because of the elven city and it's ethereal influence, calming and soothing her more barbaric impulses.

It hadn't even tried to break free, though on some level she could sense it's growing frustration. But it was a peaceful kind of frustration; an, 'Oh darn I wish I could run about, but I guess I'll be patient' kind of frustration.

But it was _her_ frustration, too. She was dreaming of midnight runs through the forest, at some maddening pace that stretched their muscles and ability to the limit. Just the mere memory felt fantastically free and unrestrained, and Elle wondered daily, wistfully, what it might feel like to experience it firsthand. To just let _go_.

The elves pretty much thought of her as that bizarre human girl, and according to Arwen had decided it must be because she was a female. It was incredibly rare for women to visit Imladris, happening maybe once in a generation, and they never stayed for long.

So they tended to avoid her as much as possible, and at nighttime the city might as well have been deserted to her. Elle liked it that way, though at times she sensed unseen eyes watching her in the dark during her more unusual activities.

Around midday, Elle stood and stretched her back with a groan. She'd been bent over for hours, to no avail. She'd discovered no more than what Radagast had already told her of the wolves; that they were great beasts infused with evil, and created by Morgoth himself to guard his domains.

She just knew that there must be more on them somewhere, if only she could actually find it. Elle had a sneaking suspicion that they kept those darker tomes locked away, and doubted she'd be able to access them any time soon. And even if she could, she figured she'd probably need a translator to read _those_.

Deciding to take a walk through the stacks to get the blood back in her cramped legs, Elle laid her current book down and followed her nose.

She wandered, picking at book spines and browsing as she went, up into the furthest reaches of the Annals. The Library had four levels, but she'd hardly investigated the highest floor and thought that that would be a decent place to start.

Maybe if she poked her nose into a few places around here, she might actually find something useful. The top floor ringed around the walls similarly to each other level, with a view of the ground floor below from the balustrade. She breathed in deep, loving the musky aroma of parchment and ink. _This_ felt like home.

Her meeting was in an hour, so time was short, but after weaving through the towering bookcases she found a door at the end of a corridor that looked particularly promising.

Shifting a look around, she made sure no one was watching as she eased the door open soundlessly and slipped through the small crack.

Elle was surprised to find herself in an office of sorts, with a large mahogany desk and burnished furniture. Countless tomes filled one wall, but rather than finding herself drawn to the books her ears picked up the sound of a conversation close by.

She walked to the archway across from her, looking out to a balcony that led down an open hallway of more concealed rooms.

"We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!"

She recognised the stern, commanding tone of Lord Elrond, and backed up into the office just in time to watch Gandalf walk out from a room down the hall onto the balcony.

He looked drained, staring out desolately to the golden horizon. Elle watched on from the doorway, eyes wide and mouth parted in anticipation.

"Gandalf..." Lord Elrond continued solemnly and the wizard halted at his words, "The Ring cannot stay here."

She remembered this conversation, like a tidal wave of emotion that brought along the distant memory. Yes, of course, this is why they formed the Fellowship. Sauron's forces were too strong, otherwise they might've hidden the Ring here.

Gandalf sagged in defeat, running a weathered hand through the wiry length of his grey beard.

"This peril belongs to _all_ middle-Earth. They must decide now how to end it." Lord Elrond carried on determinedly, "The time of the elves is over, my people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The _dwarves_? They hide in their mountains, seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others."

"It is in men we must place our hope." Was Gandalf's answer.

"Men? Men are weak."

Gandalf gestured for Lord Elrond to follow, moving down the balcony hallway together in Elle's direction.

_Oh, shit_!

She scrambled back from the door, missing what they were saying and praying that she remain unnoticed as she slipped back into the Library.

Gods, when did she become such an eavesdropper?

Elle wasted no time in scurrying behind the stacks into an alcove, peering over the top of some books as she watched the door she'd just vacated open to admit the two prolific men.

"-There's no strength left in the world of men. They're scattered, divided, leaderless." Lord Elrond was saying as they entered.

"There is one who could unite them," Gandalf murmured as he led the way with a hand running along the balustrade, "One who could reclaim the Throne of Gondor."

"He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile." Lord Elrond replied.

She let out a silent gasp, that was Aragorn. He could unite Middle-Earth? She'd forgotten that. So, wait... Why did he turn from that path? She vaguely remembered it having something to do with his family, or along the lines of that.

Distracted by her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that the two men had stilled at the top of the stairs, before Gandalf's voice floated back to her.

"Elle, you may come out now."

Well, fuck.

She shuffled out from her hiding place, embarrassment colouring her cheeks as she found them both watching her without surprise. She expected fury, or outrage. Instead, Elle was met with unconcealed amusement as their eyes danced merrily.

"Eavesdropping, Elle? I'd expect it from Peregrin or Meriadoc, but this is a surprise. Perhaps those boys are rubbing off on you more than I expected, hm?" Gandalf chuckled.

"Erm, sorry Sir..." She answered awkwardly, offering an apologetic smile, "I didn't mean to, it just kind of... happened."

Lord Elrond laughed, "Well then, Lady Elle. Now that you are here, shall we move up the time for our meeting?"

Didn't she still have an hour left before she had to undergo this torture with them? She hadn't even hit gold yet on any history of her forebears, and was definitely undermanned.

Too afraid to argue - especially with how lenient they were being about her spying on them - she nodded sullenly.

"Wonderful!" Gandalf's blue eyes shone as he gently took her arm and led her back toward the study.

Elle took a shaky breath in, heat prickling between her shoulder blades as nerves tore anxiously at her stomach. How much did they know? What should she say?

Deciding she was sick of the lies, she went with open honesty. And an apology, of course. Lying didn't really sit well with her under any circumstances.

"I- I'm sorry, Sir." Her voice cracked, and she cleared it uncomfortably, "I- I didn't want to lie, but Radagast said I should until you got back."

_Stupid_, Elle scolded herself, _now you sound like a taddle-tale_.

Gandalf nodded his head to her words, "Indeed. I hear that I have you to thank for my rescue?"

She blushed and shook her head vigorously, "No, I just let it slip up a little early. Your moth would have told Radagast eventually."

Lord Elrond sat behind the desk as Gandalf drew her up a chair, seating himself beside her.

"One moment, dear." Gandalf said as he tapped the butt of his staff into the wooden floor, "There. Silencing charm, don't want to be overheard."

She sat down nervously, both men watching her with calculating, curious eyes. Neither seemed wary, or angry with her for that matter, but Elle knew how easily those emotions could be concealed behind a cool façade.

"Do you know why you were brought here, Elle?" Gandalf asked after a moment, tilting his chin.

"Not really, no..." She trailed off, and when neither looked to be picking up the conversation she continued, "Radagast told me that I... I was born here? But that lady, she took me away so I couldn't... hurt people. That's right, isn't it?"

"It is," Lord Elrond said, "The Valar see all, and Yavanna knew that we would need allies in this coming war."

"There was always the possibility to morph dark into light, to create an ally out of Morgoth's wrath. But it was only a potential, nothing is ever set in stone. When you were lost to your brethren, Yavanna seized the opportunity and led you into the care of our dear Radagast."

Elle's mouth was probably hanging open, but she was too glued on the conversation to notice. Answers, _finally_ answers.

"So you do know what I am then? Like, really know?" She breathed as it was finally confirmed, "Why aren't you angry, or throwing me out of here for lying to you?"

Of course, she'd guessed that they knew. How could they not? But to have the proof in front of her right now was kind of unnerving.

Why _hadn't_ they locked her up or killed her yet?

"Oh my dear," Gandalf admonished her in his lovely rumbling timbre, and she was immediately taken aback by his tone, "Why would we do that? We knew what you were before you did, and have sat council with Radagast many times before on the matter. Under the absence of my presence, it was only logical to hide your true nature from your companions. Aragorn, while a noble man, would not have taken to the news kindly had I not been there to abate the situation. At his most compassionate, he would have left you behind."

She knew that was true. He'd hardly allowed her company knowing she was just a woman, let alone anything more. But it still made her head whirl, knowing that they'd been planning for her arrival since before she'd even been made aware of this world.

In a way, it made her furious to have her life laid out and planned before her. She kept that to herself though, fearful that they might change their minds and have her chained up like a dog instead.

"Okay... Makes sense." She agreed, "But I still don't get why you're not taking precautions. I could have flipped the switch and gone mental by now."

"A possibility." Gandalf conceded.

"But an unlikely one. This world has flourished under Yavanna's care, and she would not be so reckless nor so under-planned. Faith, Lady Elle, has kept you bound."

"So I'm bound, then? By what?"

"Figuratively, in a way, you are bound by your own self." Gandalf nodded, "Yavanna chose you because she sensed the potential for good. That is what binds your actions, until you find the strength within yourself to merge fully and still remain untouched by darkness."

"The essence of Imladris, you may have found, has aided in dulling the nature of the wolf. All creatures find peace within these walls." Lord Elrond added as he steepled his long fingers in thought before him.

She nodded, leaning forward in her seat, "Yes, I barely notice her presence anymore, especially during the day. It's like... she's gone into hibernation, or something."

Gandalf chuckled at her choice of words, "Aye, it would very much be like that."

"But what does this mean for me?" Elle went on obliviously, "Will I ever get back home? As much as I've always dreamed of this place, it's not _home_."

The two men shared a weighted glance.

"Elle, to go back to your world would be unwise. A Wolf of Mordor is not made for such a place, you know this. You would be hunted down and killed." Gandalf spoke gently, like he were breaking the news of death to a loved one.

He might as well have been.

"What?" She whispered, her lips unfeeling and numb, "But I... I have to get home. I have a -" She was about to say life. Friends, family, and the like. But she didn't really. Not anything worth going back for, anyway.

But that didn't change the fact that this world was alien to her, and her idea of home certainly didn't involve orcs, elves and evil overlords.

"I understand. This world is not what you are accustomed to. Mayhap, once the war is done and the seeds sown, you may find a path back to your homeland." Lord Elrond murmured thoughtfully.

"Until then my dear, you can only fulfil what you were returned here to do." Gandalf pointed out as he leant back into his chair.

"And you guys have no idea what that is?" She asked with a hint of derision, "I'm just supposed to, what? Go with the flow?"

Gandalf chuckled as Elrond replied, "Your place in this world will come to you in time. Only you can find it."

"_Oh_-kay Cryptic Guy, and in the meantime I'm just going to go around transforming into a wolf at the full moon and eating people's hearts out?" She quipped, her handle on her temperamental nerves slipping.

Gandalf laughed again, "Heavens no, where did you ever hear such rubbish? You will shift at will once you are ready, and when you are ready you will be in complete control alongside the wolf. There will be no separate instinct, you will be the wolf just as much as the wolf is already you."

"However the full moon is, I've heard, an interesting time for a wolf. I am unaware of what it is to the species, though the wolves have been known to become much more in touch with their primal side during that time." Lord Elrond brought up matter-of-factly.

Well, that sounded promising. Elle could hardly wait until the next full moon... Or, not.

"_Fantastic_." She responded drily, "Well, at least I won't become a crazed mutt. When will I change?"

"Your shift will occur, as I said, when you are ready. It is of your own design." Gandalf said kindly, tapping his gnarled fingers against his staff.

"And will it hurt?"

He looked momentarily startled by the question, before the look was swallowed up by a calm, serene mask. "I do not know."

Lord Elrond offered no follow up comment, so Elle barrelled on with her questions and ignored the pang of unease in her gut. If it was going to hurt, there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it.

"Why is Yavayar even interested in me? Wouldn't it have been easier to just kill me from the get go, and be done with all these 'buts' and 'maybes'? I mean, what if I kill someone? What then?"

"_Yavanna_." Gandalf corrected, "And no, it would not have been easier. We are not mindless killers, Elle. Who are we to question the Valar? Yavanna chose to spare your life for a reason. She brought you into our care for a reason. You have a part to play in this war, a part on the side of light. It could be that that part is only symbolic, in order to show our people that there are indeed shades of grey, that there is hope. The dark does not have to stay in the dark. Or mayhap there is something more, we do not know. Only you can discover that."

He leant forward now, a reassuring hand on her arm, "And we do not believe that you could kill someone. Radagast certainly did not think you capable, not even as the wolf. Not really. The impulse is there, but so is the indecision and the moral value."

Elle breathed in deeply, calming her fraying mind as the persistent thump of a headache began in the background. This was all so much. So much to believe, let alone understand or accept.

She paused, opening her eyes to survey their reaction, "I've tried reading about my ancestral past, but it's been useless. Who is Draugluin, and what is he to me?"

They both visibly stiffened as she said the name, gazes meeting over her head.

"What? What is it?" She pushed, looking back and forth between them both.

"His name is not one we often hear anymore. I suppose, with your curiosity, it was inevitable..." Gandalf muttered off in thought.

"Draugluin was the Sire of all Werewolves. He was created by Morgoth himself, for the use of the Dark Lord Sauron. He was a guard dog, if you will. Unmatched by all on Middle-Earth bar Sauron himself." Lord Elrond supplied, his voice soft and soothing compared to the evil he spoke of.

"And I'm, what? _Related_ to this guy?" The thought made her feel sick.

"Aye, you are. He was spawned from a purely evil spirit, the embodiment of all malevolence. He is your great-great-grandfather, and was killed many centuries ago by the powerful hound Huan of Valinor."

"Hang on a tick, I'm spawned from _pure evil_?" Her voice rose to an imperceptible squeak, a sensation like her heart was being squeezed curdling within her chest.

Gandalf's hand was back on hers, cool against her burning skin, "My dear, do not be alarmed. Draugluin was spawned of evil, you were merely a biproduct brought into this world to be shaped as such. You have just as much good in you as any other human being, your instincts are just a little more off. But you have already shown yourself to be innately good when you defended the hobbits against the Nine. You might have ran, they were not after a human girl. You remained, and fought on. That is not the mark of evil."

The old wizard's words were precisely what she needed to hear to calm her frantic mind, a wave of relief and mild nausea washing over her. Elle wrapped an arm around her middle, nodding with him as she exhaled heavily.

"I don't feel evil." She admitted, "I think if you're evil, you probably know it. Sometimes I... I feel like I might like to snap, like I'm stretching myself too thin, but I know deep down I'm not that person."

"Precisely. If your intentions were anything but good, you wouldn't react so harshly to the idea of being evil. You want to be good, and that will always be the deciding factor." Gandalf agreed with a warm smile.

"When I left, Gandalf... When I was brought here, there was some... Blue orb thingy, it was at my work. I don't know what it was, but it's like it compelled me into touching it. Is that what sent me back here? Was that... Yavanna?" Elle tucked a stray curl behind her ear, focussing wholly on the wizard's reply.

"...Will-o-the-Wisp. They are Fae lights, a form of Yavanna's. Said to lead the skeptic toward their fate, and the willing toward their doom." Lord Elrond spoke up, his pale blue eyes lighting up like a summer's day, "I have seen them myself, in my youth."

"Is that what took my memories away, too?" She prodded curiously, liking where the conversation was going. Everything was becoming clear, she no longer felt like she was being kept in the dark.

"Your memories?" Gandalf queried.

Lord Elrond cocked his head, appearing all the more elf-like as his eyes searched hers, "She has lost much in coming here. Memories of this world... But how?"

"Where I come from, this place... It's just a story, words on a page. It was one of my favourite stories, I knew everything that happened. But now... since I got here, it's all lost. I can't remember anything that happens anymore." She said, anxiety pulling her brows together, "I was fine a couple of days ago, but it all just slipped away."

"Interesting..." Gandalf murmured pensively.

"Such knowledge would have greatly affected the outcome of this war. It would be too dangerous, especially if Mordor caught wind of this. You would have been in too grave a peril. Clearly this is the work of the Valar." Lord Elrond answered decidedly.

"In this world you speak of, our plight was just a story?" Gandalf turned to her.

"Yeah, a really great one. It was a huge franchise, with movies and everything. I was always so drawn to this world..." She chuckled, "Maybe this is why."

"Fascinating." Gandalf said almost excitably, "It's almost as if these tales of our world eased your transition. Yes, perhaps this was Yavanna's doing. It must all feel somewhat familiar to you at least, ensuing no lasting shock or panic."

"And what of an adoptive family and friends? To leave those you love behind must be very traumatic, indeed." Elrond consoled her.

She stopped herself from flinching just in time, but that in itself didn't go unnoticed by the two pairs of overly perceptive eyes.

"I'm... I don't have a family. I was brought up in the foster system, the government put me in the care of random families until I became a legal adult. No proper friends either. Not any who'll miss me, anyway." She offered by way of explanation, her tone carefully neutral, "I guess it was just the most opportune time in my life to ease the transition, like you said."

She couldn't stand the pity. They kept their faces free of emotion, but she could sense it coming off of them in waves.

"Do..." She halted, tugging on the hem of her sleeve with shaking fingers, "Do I have... a family, out here?"

She glanced up to find Gandalf's grey eyes on hers, his expression compassionate yet somewhat guarded.

"Most of the Wolves of Mordor have been bred out into the Wargs and the White Wolves. You were an oddity, but..." Gandalf appraised her, "We believe there is a significant possibility, considering your being here, that there may still be others like you. We would not believe there to be many, if at all. Perhaps one, maybe two, others. But we do not know positively. You are the first sighted Werewolf in hundreds of years, Elle. If there are any others, they are no longer residing at Mordor."

"Okay." Elle nodded resolutely, "Well, let's hope I'm the last one then. I'm not that into family reunions."

* * *

Elle left the meeting feeling thoroughly shook up.

She had to clench her hands into tight fists just to stop the trembling, as she wandered back down through the halls aimlessly in deep thought.

By now, everyone knew what she really was.

Aragorn had been summoned toward the end of their discussion, and Gandalf had explained everything to the rightful King. He'd been angry at first, damn near murderous actually. But he'd calmed right down after both Gandalf and Lord Elrond vouched for her.

Of course, he'd seen firsthand her own devotion toward the cause. She'd risked her life just as much as he had in escorting the hobbits to Rivendell. And while he'd heard horror stories about the werewolves of the past, he'd reluctantly agreed to help assimilate her as the rest of the party were likely to react badly to the news.

He'd departed soon after with Lord Elrond, each to go and inform their respective parties of her true identity. Elrond to a select few of the elves, and Aragorn to the hobbits (_they'd all agreed the less who knew, the better_). She'd wanted to tell the boys herself, but Gandalf insisted it be best if she weren't present. They needed to soak in the news, not run screaming or feel obliged to react in a certain way.

Arwen found her first.

She was sitting on the edge of a large arched window, one leg dangling lazily outside as she looked out into the front courtyard. The gates were closed as usual, the very same she'd been welcomed through just days ago.

Would she still be as welcome here, now that they knew what she was to become?

Lost in her dark reverie, she didn't notice the she-elf's approach until she sat down beside her. Even with her keen hearing, elves were creepy that way.

"Are you alright?"

Elle glanced to her right in surprise, "I'm fine, just thinking. Have... Have you seen your dad yet?"

The elf shook her dark head, and Elle's stomach dropped. So, she didn't know.

"I spoke with Aragorn, though."

"Oh." Elle looked up, "He told you then?"

Arwen nodded her assent, before leaning forward to take Elle's hand, "Do not be frightened, Elle. What you must be going through... I can't imagine. I just wanted you to know that no matter what others may think, you will always be my friend."

Elle almost wanted to ask for ulterior motives, that's how startled she was by the affectionate confession. It was almost too much to hope for, that her new friend might be accepting of her position in this world.

"You don't... You're not scared of me?"

Arwen shook her head with a small smile, "Of course not. I know your heart, Elle. You wear it on your sleeve. There is no evil there."

That, after everything she'd been told in the past two hours, comforted her more than anything. Warmth infused her, and Elle couldn't fight the prick of tears from stinging her eyes.

"Th-thank you," She said, blinking back the sudden moisture, "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"I can guess," Arwen chuckled, "Besides, I know those three. I doubt they were very empathetic on an emotional level. Probably more interested in poking and prodding with sticks, am I right?"

Elle laughed, the burst of releasing all that pent up energy already making her feel better as she replied, "Yeah, pretty much. Aragorn wasn't too happy... Did he say anything to you?"

Elle didn't miss the light pink hue that tinted her friend's pale cheeks at the mention of the Ranger's name.

"He's upset that he was deceived, but he understands why. He did not have anything bad to say about you Elle, I think he truly wishes to give you a chance. I believe he's grown fond of you, and he trusts both my father and Gandalf's judgement."

Elle exhaled in relief, "Good, I've been so worried."

"Don't be," Arwen chided, "Really, it's not as bad as you think. Unlike you we have lived in this world always, we're not all that surprised when things like this happen. Not that this is the norm, but compared to how you must feel this is child's play to us."

"You believe I'm not of this world, then?" She ventured hopefully, recalling Aragorn's own disbelief and incredulous response.

"Elle, I believe that the Valar are all powerful. I believe that my father has never once led us wrong, and I believe that you are not a natural liar. I trust my inner judgement, and after he's calmed down Aragorn will come to listen to his as well." Arwen said, knowing exactly where Elle's worries had stemmed.

"I don't know, I just... Everything has happened so fast. I can't wrap my head around it all. Half the time I don't even feel like any of this is _real_..." She trailed off, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill, "It's just all so surreal."

"I can't possibly understand what it must be like. I would hate to leave behind Imladris, my father, my people... You must be devastated."

It wasn't what Elle had been expecting. The words took her aback, making her feel a lot worse than they should have. Really, she _should_ be thinking those things. That's what a normal person would be feeling right now.

"I..." Elle didn't get to finish what she'd been about to say. Hell, she wasn't even sure what she was going to say to that, but they were interrupted by a sudden horn outside of the gates that very nearly gave her a heart attack.

"What the hell is that?!" Elle demanded of no one in particular as she jolted up from the window.

"It's started." Arwen murmured in answer, her gaze drawn to the front of the courtyard as the gates began to open.

"What? What's started?"

Elle didn't have to wait long to find out what she meant.

The horn had finally stopped blowing, only to admit a procession of bannermen surrounding a brutish looking man dressed in furs and leathers atop a russet stallion.

His hair was a sandy brown, waving to his shoulders with a neatly trimmed beard accenting a strong jawline. The broad shouldered man swept off his horse, boots thudding to the stone ground as grey-blue eyes wandered appreciatively over the entrance to Rivendell.

Elle watched as he shook the hand of an approaching elf, a smirk on his lips as he slid the round shield off his back and handed it to one of his attendants.

"Who is that?" Elle asked, curious now as to who the stranger was, "And why is he here?"

The man was obviously human, as were the soldiers he'd arrived with. Elle didn't have to think hard to figure out why they were here; the presence of the One Ring concerned everyone in Middle-Earth.

"That's the son of the Steward of Gondor, Boromir: Captain of the White Tower. They're here for the Council." Arwen replied airily, watching as the new arrivals were led off toward separate quarters and their horses to the stables.

Elle racked her brain, unable to remember this Boromir at all. It looked like her memory had well and truly abandoned her.

"How many people are coming to this shindig?" Elle queried, eyes wide as yet another horn blasted from outside, this one lighter, musical and far more ethereal than the first.

"Representatives from all reaches of Middle-Earth. Oh, they're here!" Arwen shot up from her seat, every footfall dance-like as she made her way down the open hall and to the wide sweeping staircase into the front courtyard.

Elle trailed behind, her hand grazing along the windowsills as she went. Her eyes were watchful as she took in the newcomers who rode in on dazzling white steeds, pale blonde hair shining like silver under the sunlight.

Arwen swept down to meet them, honing in on one particular elf that sat tall and regal in the centre of the elven procession.

He was stunningly beautiful, gazing up at the spires of Rivendell with pride as he dismounted in one graceful leap. Elle stopped at the top of the stairs, observing as Arwen greeted the one who was clearly their leader, his face lighting up with affection and familiarity as they exchanged words.

She tilted her head to the side, soaking in the hard, alabaster planes and angles of his face, sharp and distinctly masculine, yet with an almost feminine edge of unmistakeable beauty. He was broad and taller than his companions, with an obvious strength to his lean and lithe form. Pale, white-blonde hair hung in a perfectly straight line to his chest, braided back at the temples to reveal the points of his ears.

She hadn't noticed that her breathing had quickened considerably, her heart rate spiking as she stood back uncertainly. It was as if her wolf, who had been happily dozing since they'd arrived in Rivendell, had suddenly snapped to attention with this new addition.

And then they were walking towards her. Arwen, side by side with the gorgeous blonde elf and his companions, making a beeline straight for where she stood waiting at the stairs.

Fuck, what should she do? Say hello? Or nothing, just wait until they were introduced? She had no idea, and didn't have the luxury of time to think about it.

They were almost level now, and Elle had forgotten how to breathe. Her clothes felt too tight, too constricting, and incredibly hot. Tongue-tied, she stared dumbly as he approached her...

...and then walked directly past without even a glance in her direction.

Elle turned and stared stupidly at the back of his silver head, mouth gaping in shock at the pretty obvious brush-off she'd just received. Arwen had stopped beside her, but didn't seem all that disturbed by the elf's dismissive actions.

"What the fuck..." She mumbled unintelligibly, narrowing her eyes at the departing elf as he rounded the corner purposefully and disappeared from view.

"Is there something wrong, Elle?" Arwen asked, a serene smile on her lips.

"That guy, he just completely dissed us without even saying hello. Isn't that rude, even in this world?" She asked, her tone almost snapping in her annoyance.

"I- um, which one? Did you mean Legolas? He probably didn't see you, Elle. Don't take it to heart, it's my fault. I should have introduced you, but they were adamant to speak with my father as soon as possible." Arwen explained, hooking an arm through hers as she turned them back to the gates.

Rather than closing, they stayed open as yet another group lumbered in to the shuddering beat of a drum, this time on foot. Elle forgot about the insulting blonde elf for a moment, intrigued by the unusual men who'd just shown up. They were all clearly dwarves, the tallest no higher than her ribs at most, with massive bushy beards and wild, untamed hair.

Elle's eyes zeroed in on the one at the front, his face set stern and wary as he cautiously surveyed his surroundings. This one's braided beard was a dark red, with deep-set brown eyes and ruddy cheeks. The dwarf was stocky and garbed in black and maroon hide, an exquisitely crafted battle-axe at his side. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Gimli, son of Gloin and Lord of the Glittering Caves. He is here to represent the dwarves tomorrow." Arwen filled her in, smiling genially as an elf rushed forward to greet and house their guests.

Elle could hear the dwarf grunting and growling in a loud Scottish brogue from here, clearly distrustful of the elves intentions as they steered him and his posse off into Rivendell.

"I like him already." Elle grumbled quietly, feeling a whole lot of resentment toward a particular group of obnoxiously rude elves herself.

Well, _one_ elf in particular, but who's counting?

* * *

Sometime after the sun had set, Elle found herself sitting beside Aragorn in a secluded part of the elven city. It was dark outside, the only light being a few lone torches hanging across the stone walls.

Elle was curled up at the far end of the wicker loveseat, Aragorn with a book in his hand and his feet propped up before her.

They'd just spent the last half hour talking, reconciling, and explaining everything. Aragorn was finally starting to come around, especially after hearing the sincerity in her words. The Ranger was beginning to understand that she might truly be an asset in the years to come.

Elle was feeling happier than she had in such a long time. She hadn't realised the strain her lie had been putting on her, but now that everyone knew what she really was and nobody was persecuting her for it, she'd finally been able to relax.

She thought back to her meeting with the hobbits. She'd been so nervous, and yet all they'd done is rush around her as usual with all the exuberance of a child, asking questions and demanding answers.

"Can you kill that elf if you wanted to?"

"Can you eat a person whole?"

"Can you really breathe fire and turn into a bat, too?"

She had laughed at the ridiculousness, and it had been fun. Instead of being frightened, the boys had reacted similarly to Gandalf and Elrond. Probably because they'd followed their lead, seeing that there was nothing to fear if those wise and powerful men were fine with it.

The Ranger had taken time to convince, on the other hand, and she appreciated that. She certainly would not have been all that accepting of a monster in their midst, and she wanted someone to be watchful of her to keep her in line. It was comforting, knowing that she wasn't the only one wary of what she could do.

So here she was, sitting back comfortably as Aragorn immersed himself in an old tome, just listening to the soft sounds of Rivendell. The columns around them cast grey shadows across the walls, the quiet almost haunting. There would be a feast tonight in honour of their guests, and she could just hear the preparations for it now somewhere far off and faint.

Elle twisted the fabric of her crimson silk gown between her fingers, having changed with Arwen's insistence some time ago into the more formal attire she'd lent her. The dress was cherry red, and rather than having long sleeves like the other two this one displayed a myriad of red spaghetti straps crisscrossing her shoulders and upper back in an elegant and tasteful display of bare skin. The hem reached the floor in a slinky wave, the bodice high over her chest and to her collar bones in a similar fashion to a halter neck. It was stunning and costly, with embroidered filigree at the high neckline and waist. Her chocolate brown hair was left simple, the natural curls cascading to her waist with just the front bangs twisted back and pinned to the side.

Elle rested her head back against a column, letting her eyes drift shut. She wasn't tired, but it felt nice to just release all that pent up stress for once. She was only drawn out of her doze when a sound caught both their attention, and she looked up to find the man from earlier stride into the large room. He was still dressed in fine dark leather, accents of red and grey trimming his tunic, with a sword at his side.

His footsteps echoed through the cavernous room as he walked to appraise the intricate mural of Isildur on the wall. Elle had already been through that with Aragorn, who'd earlier shown her his ancestor in a bid to understand her. A great man who was born to be good, tempted by the dark. Why could the opposite not happen, he had asked of himself and her.

They both stayed silent as the man turned toward the grand monumental display, awe and appreciation glittering in his dark eyes.

"The shards of Narsil..." He murmured in amazement, gingerly lifting the shattered handle of the blade and testing it's weight in his hands, "The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand."

With measured movements, the man ran his fingers slowly up the jagged blade, and Elle was just about to tell him he probably shouldn't do that when he flinched and nicked his finger on the tip.

"Ah, it's still sharp."

With a glance up, he finally noticed he had an audience. Elle looked between the two men, their eyes clearly locked on each other.

"No more than a broken heirloom." The man finished, haphazardly tossing the blade back to it's stand only for it to fall to the marble flooring with a ringing clang.

The human looked back, indecision flitting across his face, before deciding against stooping down to pick it up and moving swiftly on his way. Elle was mildly shocked, as the dismissal was incredibly disrespectful of such an ancient artefact.

Aragorn sighed heavily, setting his book aside as he stood and crossed to the alter. With reverence he picked up the handle and placed it gently in it's rightful place, before stepping back with a solemn hand to his chest.

Elle followed his lead, standing a few paces behind him as she too appraised the perfectly sculpted statue, until she caught movement in the corner of her eye and noticed Arwen approaching from the shadows.

The she-elf sent her a small, secretive smile and Elle nodded in understanding. These two had been sharing looks since they first arrived, and Elle was only too happy to give them some privacy.

She parted with a little wave, Aragorn not even noticing she'd left as she walked off down the same way the human had.

It didn't take her long to catch up. He'd only walked ahead by about a minute or so, and soon enough Elle was walking side by side with him.

"Hi," She greeted with a smile, "I'm Elle."

He glanced down at her, at least a head taller than she, before replying, "Elle? What a strange name. I am Boromir. Are you here with your husband, for the Council?"

She blinked rapidly at the sexist comment, "Uh, husband? Hell no, I'm here because I came with the hobbits. Are _you_ here with _your_ husband?"

He didn't seem to get the joke, just sputtered a few times and turned a slight shade of red.

"No! Heavens, woman, I am Captain of the White Tower and son of the Steward of Gondor!"

"_Fancy_. Are Captains unaware that women can go places without having a husband tagging along?" Elle kept a straight face, watching the confusion on his face with glee. He clearly had no idea what to say to her, and she couldn't keep the teasing smile back for long.

The man quirked a brow, "You are jesting with me, yes?"

She broke into a grin, "Yes. So are you going to the feast, Boromir?"

He looked utterly bemused by her, especially with the sudden change in subject.

"Of course, it would be a great insult to not attend a feast in our honour. Do you have an escort, Lady Elle?"

"What, like a hooker? Why would I need a hooker?" She asked incredulously, brows furrowing.

The man burst out laughing, "An escort, my Lady! Someone to accompany you this evening."

Her cheeks coloured in embarrassment, "_Oh_, right. No, I don't have an... escort."

His grin broadened boyishly, "Wonderful, then I shall escort you myself." Boromir offered her one large arm and she took it politely, chuckling to herself at her mistake.

"Where do you hail from?" Boromir inquired conversationally as he led her through the empty halls and in the direction of boisterous music and rising, rumbling voices.

"Sydney... It's, well. It's far from here." She explained, anxious now.

Boromir's eyes darkened in recognition, "Ah yes, now I remember. My father has been informed of your presence for many years now, in preparation for your arrival. The wizard, Gandalf, he explained your... _unusual_ situation this afternoon. It's all a bit farfetched, if you ask me, but my father has insisted I aid you in any way I can. Gondor will always welcome you with open arms, my Lady. An ally such as yourself would be a significant one."

Elle felt ruffled, flabbergasted and unsure of what to say. Her, an ally? She wasn't sure how she could be of any help to anyone, really. But she went with it, preferring open arms to pitchforks and flames.

"Oh, wow. Thank you... I'll, um, remember that." She offered weakly as a response.

Boromir didn't seem to notice anything amiss, just smiled that boyish smile and secured her arm more firmly through his.

"Are all women from Sid-erney so beautiful, Lady Elle?" He asked innocently, causing her to falter momentarily in surprise.

Nobody had ever called her _beautiful_ before. Well, except maybe Angie.

"Uhh, I don't know?" She stammered, laughing a little too high pitched in her nervousness and not bothering to correct his mispronunciation.

He leant close to her just as they rounded through a set of large, decorated wooden doors and into the great hall, long tables laid out evenly and groaning under the weight of so much food and drink.

"Such a stunning gown is truly fitting for one as stunning as you, my Lady."

She stumbled on the hem of her dress, catching herself on Boromir's arm before she fell. He laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he led her into the room.

The great hall was massive, with high, vaulted ceilings and vine-like designs carved into the walls. It was open to the elements as so much of Rivendell was, the light cast in adorned sconces. The tables were the same delicate pale grey oak, with stools that looked like perfectly carved tree stumps, though they obviously were not.

Elle noticed immediately how each race had sectioned themselves off from each other; the Rivendell elves to one long table, the dwarves to another, and Boromir's men shared with the rude silver-haired elf's group of soldiers.

Her eyes were drawn to the elf in question, where he sat amidst a group of his men and a few adoring Imladris elleths. She could tell the women were flirting with these foreign men, though the silver-haired one mostly ignored the batting of their eyes as he discussed something heatedly with an elf beside him.

Elle couldn't help her gaze from roving appreciatively over his battle-hardened form, noting the embroidered leather vest that only drew attention to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, his long and lean legs encased in fitted forest green breeches that gave way at the knee to dark boots.

She sniffed and ignored that table purposefully, turning away to scan the room for the hobbits. They sat at the back, nearest to the dwarves who were similar in height but far more stocky in build.

Elle caught Merry waving her to join them, a broad smile lighting up his face.

"Thank you, Sir," Elle said to Boromir, remembering Arwen's teachings on correct etiquette as she returned Merry's wave, "For _escorting_ me, but my friends are over there. I'm sure I'll see you again before the night is over."

He smiled back graciously, placing a chaste kiss on the back of her hand as he swept into a bow, "The pleasure was all mine, Lady Elle. Enjoy your evening, and mayhap save me a dance."

He left with a charming wink, and Elle couldn't help but flush prettily as she stalked toward the hobbits' table, ignorant of the stares she was attracting in her dress.

Arwen had given it to her purely because it was not her own personal style, but had been a gift from the city of Minas Tirith some time past for their hospitality. Red was not a colour often worn by the elves, their favouring pastels and softer tones, so Arwen had never found use for it. A human woman, however, was more than accustomed to such styles in the fashionable cities of Middle-Earth, and Arwen had been right in assuming Elle would like it.

"Elle! You look smashin'!" Pippin cried out drunkenly, stumbling over his words as he stood on his stool and threw an arm over her shoulder, "This 'ere is our Lady Elle. Th'most beautiful Lady in all the land, I'd say!"

Elle grinned weakly at the surrounding dwarves at their table, as well as an amused Gandalf, as she shrugged out from beneath the drunk hobbit's arm, "Pleased to meet you all."

"Ah!" The one with the auburn hair who'd been nothing but rowdy and loud since he'd arrived at the gates addressed her, "Aye, I've heard of ye Lass. Ye the wee she-wolf, if I'm no' mistaken?"

Elle nodded, tucking a curl behind her ear as she took a seat between Merry and Sam, "That's me. And you are?"

"Gimli, son of Gloin!" He replied in a gruff voice, grinning as he tipped back his tankard and ale spilt down his beard.

"Well I'm Elle, daughter of none." She answered sweetly, to a chorus of raucous laughter from the dwarves.

"To Elle, daughter of none, the most beautiful Lady in all the Land!" They cheered as they clapped their mugs together and sloshed the contents about.

Elle shook her head with a laugh as she ladled a wooden plate full of food. The fast-paced yet serene music in the hall echoed with the sounds of intoxicated laughter and merriment, very much how she'd imagined an elven soirée would go if their guests had been dwarves and men.

It was like inviting a bunch of caterwauling street urchins to a classic party of gentry, harps and all.

Her feet tapped against the marble flooring, the laced slippers Feriel had dug up for her rapping a nice rhythm to the beat. It had taken time to find shoes that fit her, as her feet were smaller than most of the tall and willowy elves.

"How are you, Frodo?" She asked around a mouthful of crusty bread, noting the small hobbit's faraway stare. He seemed lost in space, completely zoned out and in another world.

The thought almost made her laugh, she really _was_ in another world.

Frodo blinked and focused his eyes on the girl before him, "I-I'm fine. Just a little tired. I might retire early, I think."

Elle felt pity for the poor boy with dark rings under his eyes, "Maybe you should. You've got to give yourself some more time to heal, Frodo. Don't push yourself."

He nodded absently as he stood from the table, Sam stumbling up beside her as he did.

"Mr Frodo, are you okay?"

Frodo nodded with a smile, "Yes Sam, I'm fine. Just a little tired, I'm going to go up to bed."

"Of course, you need your rest. Do you need anything of me?" Sam asked kindly.

"No, no, it's okay. Just going to bed."

Frodo wandered off between the tables, looking sleepy and disorientated as he left. Sam's golden-brown brows furrowed in worry as he watched his best friend go.

"It's alright, Sam. He just needs time to recover." Elle assured the hobbit, rubbing a hand comfortingly on his back as Sam took a seat.

"I might just go and make sure our boy is alright," Gandalf spoke for the first time since she'd sat down, "Goodnight, my friends. Enjoy yourselves."

The wizard stood and followed in the wake of the hobbit, a twinkle in his eyes that Elle had grown all too used to.

Lord Elrond stood after they'd finished their meal and more drinks were passed around, welcoming all to his home and asking to make the most of their night for tomorrow would bring the unknown. Even the rambunctious dwarves quieted down in respect for his speech, until he'd finished and their cheers and thudding boots became deafening.

It was at this point that Pippin and Merry decided that the music was perfect for dancing, before snatching up both her hands and hauling her out into the space before the small orchestral band. Elle's cheeks fired up as all eyes were on them, but she soon forgot about it as the boys began singing some nonsense song uproariously, spinning her between them as they danced and jigged to the merry beat.

She was breathless with laughter. Her skirts bunched in her hands as she attempted to replicate their quick footwork that reminded her so much of an Irish jig. A few more men and dwarves joined in, and a couple of elves partnered up to sweep across the floor elegantly. Elle lost count of their faces as she was handed tankard after tankard, swigging down the sweet and heady spiced mead.

At one point she did end up having that dance with Boromir, who was as gentlemanly as ever as they waltzed to a slower song, making her laugh till her sides hurt with his jokes.

She was spinning a very drunk Gimli in circles some hours later, laughing with tears in her eyes with the rest of the unruly dwarven guests and with Gimli insisting in slurred tones that she, "_must_ come and visit the Glittering Caves, as ye would be welcomed like a Princess by my people!", when she tripped over a dwarven pair of steel-capped boots and landed directly into the lap of one very surprised and very _un_amused silver-haired elf.

"Oh, my God. I am so sorry!" She gushed, mortified, as her cheeks flamed crimson to match her gown.

She was encased between two very strong and solid arms, impenetrable as steel, that held her up from barrelling him over completely. One slashing brow was raised sardonically, a contemptuous smirk on his thin lips that set off the distinguishing angles of his cheekbones and jawline perfectly.

"No, please, I believe you left half of my drink untouched. Why not run into that, too?"

She halted the apologies that were flying from her parted lips, astonished by his cutting remark and rejecting the twang in her belly at the smooth sound of his deep and lyrical voice. Had he just...?

"_Excuse_ me?" She retorted, pushing against his chest and ignoring how firm and defined it was as she extracted herself from his lap, "No need to be rude, it was just an accident, buster."

For a moment she didn't think the arrogant elf would let her up, but after a split second of shoving she was released from the cage of his arms and standing before him, brushing down the fabric of her dress in an attempt to compose herself.

Her heart rate had spiked significantly again, much to her annoyance.

The elf just laughed, the sound so perfect and musical it made her want to wring his neck. What was it about this elf that had her feeling so disarmed and useless? She straightened herself to her full height, which wasn't all that much, as he stood to face her.

The elf was almost a foot taller than her, and she had to arc her neck to reach his pale blue eyes. She was sure she looked a mess, with her dark hair ruffled and her cheeks flushed from wine and dancing. He didn't have a single silver strand of hair out of place.

_When_ had it become so hot in here? She felt dreadfully warm, her dress uncomfortable against her heated, prickling skin as his light blue eyes trailed over her.

Her breath caught as he bent to her ear, his words like mint leaves brushing over her skin as he whispered, "You know... if you wanted to sit in my lap, all you had to do was ask _meril_."

It took her a few minutes to register what the elf had said, his nearness all too distracting as she was engulfed by his warmth and spicy scent. By the time she caught on, the elf had passed her by and was already walking out with a few of his attendants in tow.

Elle spluttered, aghast and infuriated. How _dare_ he?!

_Why that stupid, arrogant, egotistical, uppity little pixie-boy_!

She was fuming visibly, her hands clenched at her sides as she took a few deep breaths and willed her primal side to calm down. This was the closest she'd been to flipping out since arriving in Rivendell, and she certainly wasn't used to having to rein in her wolf here.

Elle groaned, raising her hand to her head as she let the humiliation wash over her. She'd never felt like such a fool in all her life, and that elf had just teased and poked fun at her in front of everyone. Not to mention, implied that she'd _wanted_ to end up in his lap.

Of all the megalomaniacal responses. The _fucking_ gall!

She hadn't even had time to come back with some witty remark, either. Not that her brain had been working all that well, his proximity had completely thrown her off. And she just wasn't expecting an elf to be so... so... well, impolite!

She'd wanted the stupid elf to notice her, and now she'd gotten her wish. It just so happened that by doing so she'd ended up making a complete and utter ass of herself, and was only mildly appeased by the fact that come tomorrow after the meeting she'd probably never have to deal with the likes of him ever again.

With that somewhat comforting (_but mostly mortifying_) thought in mind, Elle bid her good nights to the rest of the company and trundled dejectedly back to her room, all thoughts of fun and dancing ruined as she settled in to a night of abject embarrassment and self-loathing.

* * *

**There it is!**

**Hopefully this chapter lived up to your expectations, so please do tell me if you enjoyed it and whatnot. The Reviews are honestly the only thing that pushes me to do this, especially right now with all this stress and tragedies going on. Again, I just can't thank you guys enough for the phenomenal support and love I've received. Truly blessed!**

I did struggle a fair bit with the last scene and how I wanted it to play out, it was so important to time their meeting just right. And honestly, I've never pictured Legolas as a love at first sight kinda guy. I mean, he's damn old and he's not taken up a lady friend yet. So here is my interpretation! Just a bit of fun to see how it might turn out if he wasn't all that head over heels to begin with as some stories are prone to have (Also a bit of sassiness inherited through his altogether too-sexy father).

As well as, I just ADORE Boromir. Since his family is so keen to possess the Ring, I figured they'd be pretty up for having her on their side too as a secret weapon. Same goes for Gimli, though he's not obvious about it nor is he pushy. She'd just be an asset, hence their acceptance. And since these people are called to Council, I assumed their respective families would have also been informed for some time (and in doing so, got used to the idea) of something as important as the possession of one of Mordor's wolves in their midst. Not everyone knows obviously, just a need to know basis for the "important" folks.

Yeah so, tons of information crammed in especially during her meeting. I hope it wasn't too much for you guys, lemme know! And just out of curiosity, do you guys prefer long or short chapters? I'm a long chapter girl myself, but it's nice to know if I should cut it down a tad.

**Anyhow enough rambling, thank you again so much everyone. Remember to Favourite/Follow/Review if you enjoyed it! All my love,**

**\- T**

**xo**


	8. The Fellowship

**I have the best readers in the whole world.**

**GUYS, here's the next chapter. How exciting! I'm super sick at the moment so I highly doubt my editing capabilities, please let me know if you find any inconsistencies, spelling mistakes or mix-ups. I'll be so grateful!**

**Enjoy, and make sure to read the Author's note at the end.**

**\- Torrance Rose ****-**

* * *

Elvish words used:_ (I am not an expert in this language. I literally just do a google search, so if there are mistakes, oh well. Let's just use our imagination, and pretend it's right! Though, do let me know if you know the correct words, etc. Because I will correct it. The mistake, of course, is all mine. This goes for ALL elvish words used throughout the story._

_pen tithen _\- little one.

* * *

Elle was catapulted awake the next morning by two very loud, very excitable hobbits jumping on her bed.

She groaned, ignoring their demands for her to wake up as she burrowed under the covers and willed herself to go back to sleep. She didn't have a hangover in dream-land.

"Come on, Elle! It's almost ten, and we have to go to the meeting." Merry explained in a rush as he grabbed her exposed foot and tugged with all his might.

She slid out from under the covers, looking very disgruntled as she glared at the both of them, "I'm _sleeping_, in case you two don't realise what that looks like. Besides, I thought we weren't _allowed_ to go to the meeting."

Her tone was dripping with derision, framing her opinion on the oh-so-private and elite Council going ahead as planned.

"Like that's ever stopped us before!" Pippin piped up, a grin on his pointed face. Elle raised her brows, liking the sound of that.

"So, what?" She began as she lifted herself up into a sitting position, "We'll just go and hope nobody notices us?"

Merry shook his head, mirroring Pippin's beaming smile as he said, "Nope. We'll hide, we're good at that. We can listen in!"

The two looked like they'd just broken into the cookie jar and gotten away with it.

Elle pursed her lips, tapping a finger against her chin as she mulled it over, "So what you're saying is, we'll sneak in and eavesdrop on the meeting like a bunch of untrustworthy, lying, cheating little spies?"

Both their faces paled, realising too late that it might not have been the best idea to involve someone else in on their plan. Now it was ruined, and there would be no fun and games or listening in on secret, covert operations.

Elle let them suffer for a moment, until her face split into a wide grin.

"_That_ is genius! Where is it?"

It took Elle all of fifteen minutes to pin her hair back in a messy bun, tendrils of curls escaping the loosely braided sides as she tugged on her tired ivory lounging robe. She barely had time to brush her teeth elven-style and rinse her face, before being dragged out of the room by the two boys.

"Where is it?" Elle hissed, repeating herself softly as they ducked into an alcove to avoid two _vartyo_ walking by.

The two hobbits took turns squabbling in their telling. Eventually she pieced together that the meeting was being held in one of Lord Elrond's most private courtyards, specifically designed for these urgent Councils. Pippin had overheard some of the elves discussing it last night with their Lord, and learned that it was somewhere near his own quarters.

Elle had only ever been there once before with Arwen during her first tour, but her more wolfish senses kicked in and she reluctantly surrendered to it and began leading the way. Soon she'd picked up the scent of human, wizard and elves. There was another iron and stone-like smell she quickly pinpointed as unique to the dwarves mingling throughout.

"Where is Sam?" Elle mouthed as male voices picked up on the wind.

The hobbits just shrugged, "Wasn't there when we went to his room." Pippin answered in a barely-heard whisper.

Elle nodded, before placing a finger to her lips and edging around the hallway. They ducked down, avoiding the wide arched windows as they crawled to the end of the walkway where a large open doorway was centred to the right. Hiding behind a column, Elle peered through the gaps to survey the scene before them.

The Council was being held in a breezy courtyard outside, and set on a large stone circular dais. High-backed formal chairs ringed the clearing, with Lord Elrond seated at the head, and a cylinder platform in the very centre.

She couldn't see it from here, but Elle guessed that that was where the One Ring resided. She knew what it must look like to these men; innocent, placid, a mere and uninteresting piece of jewellery. But she could scent it's evil, pulsing aura behind all that it used to hide.

And while that in itself repelled her, there was an essence within the Ring that intrigued her to no end. It pulled at her wolf with tiny gossamer threads, enticing and tempting without force or demand. Elle ignored it.

Intricate elvish designs ringed the room in golden arches, adding to the divine and empyrean feel of the place that only contrasted with the dark presence of the Ring. Engulfing shrubbery and trees encased the circle from prying eyes but left the view free from the entrance to where they hid, with foreboding statues of stone situated protectively around them as if in warning to the trespassers. Elle suppressed a shudder, and instead concentrated on the conversation at hand.

Boromir was standing near the centre of the circle, his gestures wild and animated and his tone not any different. He sounded passionate, heated, and determined.

"By the blood of _our_ people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" He shouted valiantly, looking every bit the warrior as he faced the Council.

"You cannot wield it." Aragorn broke in from where he sat, "None of us can."

Aragorn's stance was deceptively at ease, lounging pensively back in his seat. Elle could see in his eyes the hunter she knew behind them, held back amongst his peers.

Boromir turned to the Ranger skeptically, "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" He asked with a hint of scorn.

Elle leant forward for a better view, her curls falling into her eyes and tickling her chin as she tried to stay hidden without losing the focus of the meeting.

She watched as the silver-haired elf - Arwen had reminded her continuously that his name was _Legolas_ \- stood in outrage and stalked down the human, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." His fierce, husky voice was resolute, sending a foreign thrill deep into Elle's core at the dominant tone. The elf stood a couple of inches above Boromir, staring him down with a cold fury.

Boromir looked like he'd just seen a ghost, shock colouring his features. He did not look pleased about this unwarranted turn of events.

"Aragorn..." He stated in amazement, "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas reminded him heavily, a silent warning to tread carefully.

Aragorn exhaled wearily, before gesturing for Legolas to sit down and murmuring something in that lyrical elvish language she'd grown to adore. To Elle's amazement, the pompous elf complied and backed off without complaint.

Boromir clearly didn't notice the look on Aragorn's face that spoke volumes, it was too obvious that the Ranger would have preferred nothing more than for that little tidbit to have remained secret.

"Gondor has no King." Boromir near spat toward the silver-haired elf, before turning slowly to face Aragorn who hadn't yet budged an inch, "Gondor needs no King."

The Captain returned to his seat with just as much determination as he'd begun with. The tension in the room was palpable and awkward, no one knowing quite what to say to that remark. It bordered the line of treasonous, really.

"Aragorn is right." Gandalf was the first to break the silence as he sat thoughtfully in his chair, "We cannot use it."

With that, Lord Elrond stood in all his grandeur and faced the rest of them solemnly, his features set and strong.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

The silence that followed was onimous, sickly with fear and the unknown, until the dwarven Lord Gimli growled out, "What are we waitin' for?" and jumped forward with his axe at the ready.

In one fell move, he swiftly brought the weapon down only for it to shatter into thousands of fragments on contact with the Ring. The shards exploded in every direction, as the little dwarf was thrown off his feet by the sheer force and power of the cursed object.

In that instant, Elle's eyes were drawn to Frodo who sat small and pale beside the wizard. Her memory flashed, and she recalled the fiery, black image of the Eye that stabbed Frodo's consciousness at the smash of the blade.

She didn't miss the hobbit flinch, his eyes slamming shut upon the impact as if he, too, were in physical pain. Elle's chest swarmed with sympathy for the poor boy, and all that he had to deal with to come.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Lord Elrond informed the dwarf as his comrades leapt up to help him from the floor.

Elrond continued on, his voice turning darker and all the more chilling with each vile word he spoke, "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came!"

Elle's eyes were glued to the Ring, barely a hint of gold amidst all that stone, as the Black Speech filled her ears. Beckoning, teasing, taunting... It called to her, called her home...

Elle squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her tingling gums painfully, willing the voices in her head to stop. She felt cold, numb, like she'd never feel anything ever again.

"Elle?" Merry whispered from beside her, grasping her hands between his. The clammy heat of his fingers circled hers, and she jolted like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her head. Elle ripped her thoughts from the Ring, resisting the twisted words as she locked eyes with Merry's warm, hazel orbs.

"Th-thank you." She stuttered breathlessly, finding it an effort just to keep her voice down. The hobbit nodded in reply, tightening his hold on her as they turned back to the meeting.

She'd never, in all her life as a fan of the famous franchise, expected the Ring's pull to be so powerful. Sure, in theory she knew it was damn near irresistible if it wanted to be. Hell, just look at what happened to Smeagol. Bilbo had to practically wrestle the thing out of his mutated hands in The Hobbit, only for it to screw him over pretty good too.

She'd just never thought she would be so perceptible to it.

"One of you must do this." Lord Elrond was finishing as she tuned back in, fixing the Council with a serious stare.

Elle's eyes snapped to Boromir as he moved to hold a hand to his head in exhausted disbelief, "One does not simply walk into Mordor."

Elle snorted.

She couldn't remember who died, who lived, or even what happened in this fabled quest. But _this_ she remembered; a silly meme on the Internet that had her smirking at her own ridiculous sense of humour. Typical of her mind to make everything into a bit of a joke.

She quickly sobered up, however, as Boromir went on undisturbed and his tone grew only more hopeless.

"It's Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume." His voice ended in a hoarse chuckle as he said, "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Once again the silver-haired elf Legolas snapped up from his seat, proud and indignant as he rounded on Boromir, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed."

Elle didn't know what his hot-headed deal was, but the elf had the kind of strong, commanding tone of someone who didn't need to raise their voice to be heard. It was soft yet unyielding and firm, like a General addressing his troops before battle.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" The dwarf Lord, Gimli, barked from his seat in a growl.

Boromir was standing once more, facing the elf down again as he rebuked, "And if we fail, what happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli howled as he leapt from his seat, and the Council quickly descended into chaos.

The elves all jumped to Legolas's aid, raced by the dwarves, and then lastly Boromir's men followed suit as they all began a screaming match fit for the Gods of Olympus.

Elle was astonished by the uncharacteristic display of these stoic men, the air rising and thick with tension as they all shouted over the other in a useless bid to be heard across the din.

Their gestures were unrestrained, their voices insulting and crude as they all threw themselves into the heated debate that had somehow become a matter of racial discrimination.

_Men_.

Elle could practically hear the One Ring laughing with glee at the discord it had surely caused; nobody was immune to the affects of such dark power.

"Never trust an elf!" Elle could distinctly hear Gimli's brogue over the anarchy, derisive and angry as he repeated his statement.

She could just make out Gandalf's pointed grey hat over the crowd, shaking his head wearily as he lifted himself up to join the fray. Frodo looked withdrawn and confused, his vibrant eyes drawn to the Ring as if in deep thought.

"Do you understand? While you bicker, Sauron's power grows!" Gandalf's voice rang loudly through the clearing as he attempted to placate the Council, "None can escape it, you'll all be destroyed!"

Nobody seemed to hear a single word he said, they just continued their mindless shouting match in a rage as Boromir turned to Gandalf and yelled for him to see reason. To let them wield it.

Elle found that to be a crazy idea, she could feel it's evil lurking like it were a magnet pulling at her. It would wield _them_.

Her jaw was slack, her hand squeezing Merry's beside her as they watched on from the shadows, when Frodo finally stood and spoke up.

"I will take it."

He might as well have been talking to a wall, with all the attention that got him. Elle's heart went out to him, devastated. He looked so tiny compared to all of these bickering men; a child in their wake.

"I will take it!" Frodo shouted louder, taking a few steps forward to be heard. The wizard stilled and visibly sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor." Frodo said resolutely, loud and clear as everyone's voices died down, "Though... I do not know the way."

The entire Council was struck speechless by this confession, humbled in such stark contrast with their own behaviour. Elle recalled that while one might think they know all there is to a hobbit, they never failed to surprise you. She was pretty sure each of these Council members were figuring that out right about now.

There was silence for all of five seconds, until Gandalf broke it by stepping up to take his place behind him.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins." He rumbled with a pat to his shoulder, "As long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn stood, having not moved during the entire clash, with pride in his eyes.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He vowed, getting to his knees before Frodo, "You have my sword."

Elle's jaw dropped. The Fellowship, they were forming the _Fellowship_ right before her eyes.

Her excitement was dampened only slightly as the elf, Legolas, stalked toward the hobbit purposefully and pledged, "And you have my bow."

"And my axe!" Gimli followed determinedly, trundling forward.

Her smile picked up as Boromir strolled forward, "You carry the Fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Elle's mind was almost as chaotic as this meeting as she watched everything unfold, but she didn't have a lot of time to marvel over witnessing this historical display as a commotion broke the solemn scene.

"Heh!" A familiar voice interrupted as a head of golden-brown curls appeared behind a bush. Elle's eyes were wide, silent laughter curling her lips as Sam scurried out from his hiding place and took a stand beside his best friend, "Mr Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you. Even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." Lord Elrond said as he crossed his arms in mock disapproval, amusement flitting across his face.

Next thing Elle knew, Merry had grabbed her arm and pulled her out from behind the column. They raced ahead of her up the stairs as Elrond turned, shocked.

"Oi! We're coming too!" Merry cried out as they both ran to Frodo's side.

Elle could almost burst into laughter at the look of surprise on Lord Elrond's face, it was so comical on the serene and eternally poised elf, but she refrained as she stood uncertainly at the bottom of the dais.

"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry finished with absolute determination.

"Anyway," Pippin added as he crossed his arms and met the eyes of the elf, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip." Merry muttered with a snigger.

Pippin nodded along happily, obliviously, to Merry's words, until he caught on with what was being said and abruptly stopped.

Lord Elrond looked nothing short of entertained by their antics and this sudden change of events as he turned to appraise her hanging back in the shadows.

"And what of you, my Lady? I suppose you wish to accompany your friends in this endeavour, too?"

Elle took to the stairs tentatively, ignoring the ranging reactions of astonishment to downright disapproval of the surrounding Council at this new unwarranted approach. She felt like her skin was caught up in flames, her entire body thrumming and tingling with anticipation.

Was this really happening?

"I..." She took a step forward into the sunlight, scanning the scene before her like she was trying to memorise every last detail. Which she was. But she never got the chance to savour it.

"With all due respect Lord Elrond, the thought of bringing a woman on this journey is a ridiculous notion."

The deep voice was lyrical and smooth, belying the harsh choice of words against her. It was the last voice she wanted to hear right now. Elle's gaze snapped to the silver-haired elf who'd spoken, his pale blue eyes not even on her as he locked gazes with Lord Elrond.

Elle felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her, like she'd just been run over by a steamroller. There was no better way to describe it. He had completely caught her off guard with that obnoxious statement, not even expecting that her right to take part in this mission would be questioned.

"What?" She sputtered incredulously as her mouth caught on and her cheeks flushed angrily, "I've been on this quest longer than you have!"

"A minor detail," The elf breezed over as his gaze passed momentarily from her outraged face and back to Lord Elrond, "The girl would be in constant danger, not to mention slowing our progress and potentially placing the Ringbearer in the path of harm as well."

"The _girl_?!"

She bit back a few choice words she'd have liked to use, refraining from giving the aloof elf the satisfaction of seeing her crack.

"She is not just a girl." Boromir broke in as Elle fought for words, "She is a Wolf of Mordor. She could be a great asset. I say she joins us."

Elle glanced to the warrior, gratitude written across her face as he nodded imperceptibly in understanding.

"I second that." The dwarf backed up, though Elle was pretty sure he'd have said anything to go against the elf's wishes, "She is no defenceless damsel, the wolves have strength not even you can comprehend, elf."

Legolas looked affronted, but his neutral gaze and cool demeanour quickly swallowed it up as he pushed forward, "Precisely why she is so dangerous. Temperamental, no more than an experiment. This journey is too treacherous to begin with, without an unpredictable werewolf pup in our midst."

"Excuse me?!" Elle spat as she stomped forward, "An _experiment_? Are you off your meds, or something? I'm a human being, asshole. And I'm a big girl, I think if you can make the decision of coming I can make that decision for myself too."

"You are a woman." He retorted, as if that explained everything.

"What's that got to do with anything?!" Her voice was becoming uncomfortably high-pitched in her anger.

"An elleth could hold themselves well, yes, but a human girl? A child, no less? Having returned to this wolf form as of little over a week ago, does not a soldier make." Legolas explained further, his tone apathetically undisturbed by her shrieking, "You would only be placing yourself in harm's way, as well as that of your friends. Surely that must alarm you?"

She gritted her teeth and counted slowly back from ten.

Elle had no idea what she'd ever seen in this pointy-eared jerk to find him even remotely attractive. She was positive that behind his blasé and politely detached expression he was smugly patting himself on the back for putting the helpless little wolf girl in her place. The bastard.

Calmly, or as calmly as she could muster up in the situation, she gritted out, "I really don't appreciate your creepy, passive-aggressive attempt at guilting me into backing out. I can handle myself just fine, I will not be a burden nor will I actively put anyone in any danger."

There. She'd take the high road, and remain the mature adult. There was no way she was going to succumb to his high-handed jabs by lashing out. No matter how tenuous of a grasp she had on her temper right now, what with her wolf just battling to tear the impassive look off his face.

Before the elf could retort, however, Gandalf broke in to their argument. "May I make a suggestion?"

They both cast glares toward the wizard for interrupting. Well, Elle did. Legolas was still disturbingly unruffled. Did the man have no passion, or something? He was about as expressive as a damn robot in the face of her wrath.

"This is, after all, Frodo's journey. Perhaps it should be in his hands to make such a decision? We are at an impasse, I don't see any other option if Elle is intent on going," He looked to the elf at this before turning his grey-blue eyes on her, "and Legolas is intent on your staying."

"Why is it anyone's decision to make but mine? This is ridiculous, none of you are my keeper!" Elle barked out in annoyance, the sound just slightly off kilter and leaning toward her wolfish side.

Boromir sniggered beside her, "Perhaps that's it, my Lady. Perhaps you need a keeper?"

Elle shot him a baleful look, dismissing the notion with a hiss, "Don't give them any more ideas, Captain."

"I- I think Elle should come. I don't see why she shouldn't. I mean, she did protect us against the Ringwraiths... And she's just as qualified as any hobbit for this journey, mayhap even more..." Frodo supplied softly, his voice barely heard over their chatter.

Elle stopped talking instantly, her face lighting up as she threw herself at the hobbit and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Thank you, Frodo! You're the best!"

The hobbit blushed a thousand shades of red as she stood and ruffled his hair excitedly, her smile turning smug as she appraised the elf condescendingly.

"Looks like you've just been voted off the island, mate." She smirked, hiding her frustration as Legolas remained calmly uninterested and turned back to Lord Elrond as though their disagreement had never happened.

"So, ten companions it will be... So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Lord Elrond stated proudly, and Elle swelled with excitement.

"Right!" Pippin grinned from beside her, glancing about curiously, "Where are we going?"

* * *

"You should have heard him, Arwen! Seriously, up on his high horse like he's the damn boss of the world, or something. I mean hello, you're an elf buster, not god!"

Elle knew she had a serious case of word vomit, but she couldn't help herself from spewing out a couple of choice words in relation to the stick-up-his-ass blonde elf every few minutes. She'd relayed the entire story to Arwen about a hundred times, and she still didn't feel any better about it.

Arwen just laughed, raising her dark blue eyes to the treetops as if to ask the ancient beings for strength, "I'm sure it wasn't that awful. I have known Legolas all my life, he's never been anything but kind and respectful. Isn't it more likely that he was just honestly worried for your safety?" The raven-haired elleth replied as she fiddled with one of the white blossoms hanging from the trees above.

Elle snorted inelegantly, "No. He's a prick, and that's all there is to it. He hates me, because I fell on him or something. Or maybe he's just racist against humans."

The words were out before Elle could stop them, and she immediately realised her mistake.

Her laugh was dry and humourless as she corrected the slip up, "Sorry, wolf girls. Not humans."

Arwen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Don't be silly. Elves are not racist toward anyone. Well, expect maybe dwarves at times. Though I suppose you _are_ quite small..."

Elle laughed and nudged her friend playfully, "Shut up, just because all you elves are freakishly tall does not make me small. I'm of normal size, thank you very much."

Arwen grinned, "If you insist, _pen tithen_."

Elle's brow furrowed, "Hey, what does that mean?"

"I suppose you'll never know!"

They were both still laughing when Aragorn entered the gardens. He looked almost taken aback to find Elle there with her, but drew the courage to ask for a moment with Arwen. His dark hair fell rakishly across his forehead, green eyes swimming with an emotion Elle couldn't quite place. The elf sobered up quickly, and Elle made short work of extracting herself from the courtyard to give them a little privacy.

Those two were getting closer and closer, and the thought of them being together made Elle smile. Arwen had such a gentle soul, she balanced out Aragorn's more self-destructive nature perfectly. They brought out the best in each other, which was important in times like these. She only hoped that this war wouldn't end up tearing them apart in the process.

Dinner that night was uneventful. Sombre, really, as their troupe made the most of their last comfortable and decently fed nights with a roof over their heads. One more day, and they would venture out from the safety of these walls and into the unknown. The thought had Elle quieter than usual, and she retired early without more than a few words.

Something akin to jealousy ran beneath her skin as Elle watched the boys practise with their little shining blades out in the training yard that next day.

They were the same rusted contraptions Aragorn had gifted them with that dreaded night on the watchtower, and in that time looked to have grown no more efficient wielding them than when they had started.

Elle stifled a snicker as Pippin haphazardly blocked one of Merry's clumsy thrusts by throwing his own sword at it, and then promptly tackled his friend to the floor with a roar. With those kind of fumbling tactics, they were doomed if they ran into any sort of trouble early on.

The boys had quite sternly deemed that morning that they were in great need of brushing up on their sword play before any form of departing took place. Of course she'd quickly realised that by brushing up, they'd meant learning from scratch.

She'd only come along to the training yards because they'd begged her to, and she'd clung to the small hope that she just might be able to borrow a sword and hack around a little too.

That had been out of the question, however. The soldiers housed in the armoury had only stared at her with utterly blank expressions as they'd looked over her petite stature and flowing gown, as if they did not even understand the request. One even had the nerve to propose escorting her back to the gardens, so that she might practise her _embroidery_. It was unbelievable.

She wasn't _that_ small.

Okay, so maybe she was a tad smaller than the female elves these men were used to fencing with, but she wasn't tiny. She was of average height for a human; lithe with a slim, hourglass figure compared to their willowy, straight and clearly athletically-superior women who very near towered over her.

Apparently, to their ignorant reasoning, Elle's size indicated her fragility like she were some delicate child or crushable flower. Well, at least, that's what Feriel had informed her after she'd blown up and demanded a reason. That was before they'd kicked her out onto her backside, anyway.

So now here she sat with the silent _vartyo_, glaring dully from the sidelines in one of the many decorative stands that seemed to have grown straight out of the ground in a twisting display of flowering vines and branches.

She was leaning back against a limb with an arm thrown over her forehead, squinting down into the dusty grounds with a pinched look on her face. Apparently, sunglasses hadn't been invented yet in Middle-Earth and she was paying for it dearly to keep the blaring sunshine from her eyes.

Elle pursed her lips and pouted, refusing to smile as Merry thwacked his friend on the backside with the flat of his blade in retaliation.

No, she was pissed off. She would not enjoy herself, not one bit.

It's not that women were forbidden to take part in sword play, archery and sparring or anything, after all the practice was firmly encouraged by most families according to Feriel. It was just not overly common for them to sit and watch when a tournament was not in place, and never had there been a _human_ female here before.

And okay, so she wasn't technically human. But they didn't have to know that, did they?

Being discriminated against because of her femininity and race was the last thing she'd expected, and she resigned herself to another mindless day of sitting under golden trees, singing hymns and weaving god damn daisy chains. She didn't know how Arwen could stand this kind of life day in and day out, though she supposed _she_ at least had the option of taking part in all activities. If Elle hadn't been dedicating all her time and energy into brooding as she sat picking at her freshly applied navy-blue nail polish and grumbling under her breath, she would have noticed the gathering number of male elves in the yard below.

Those present soon began dedicating their time on the field to drawing her attention with their brutal displays of strength and battle prowess, the clang of steel against steel and the constant twang of a bow soon filling the air.

She would have laughed, if she'd been aware enough to notice.

It just wasn't fair. Here she sat on the sidelines, while even Frodo had cool things like the Mithril vest and Elvish blade Sting to fight with. They were no bigger than children, and yet she couldn't even be trusted to handle a dagger.

Not that their little weapons were much more than that in the hands of those she watched fencing across the field. Frodo had been so proud, puffed up and grinning as he'd presented his new blade to her just a few hours ago. She hadn't had the heart to tell him the small thing couldn't really be deemed a sword in the literal sense.

"It's an elvish blade." He had declared fondly, "It will glow blue when orcs are near. Oh Elle, isn't it wonderful? Bilbo says its name is Sting."

She'd smiled and ran a hand down the intricately designed scabbard, "It's beautiful! How generous of Bilbo, that's such a thoughtful present."

She didn't think it wise to add that she'd remembered the blade perfectly from its time spent with his uncle some many years ago. She'd always adored the idea of naming a weapon, and as she sat with the hobbit and looked over Sting she found the dagger just as formidable and stunningly represented as she'd imagined.

"And, there's this." Frodo had went on, tenderly pulling a bundle out from his inner coat and opening it to reveal a vest of shining white and silver. It was breathtakingly beautiful and truly exquisite, made up of tiny gossamer chinks in a pearl hue that looked incredibly frail and fine-spun.

Elle had exhaled in wonder, running a hand over the smooth and silky surface, "Wow, Frodo, this is amazing. What is it?"

"It's Mithril. Bilbo said it would come in handy." Frodo had explained.

"Bilbo really went all out, huh?" Elle had grinned, helping him tuck the sword into this belt.

"Yes, I suppose he did. Do you know where Sam is? I want to show him too." Frodo went on, looking far brighter and healthier than he had all week.

"Sorry, no idea. Maybe he's at the hall? It's around lunchtime, he's probably grabbing a bite to eat." Elle had offered with a shrug as she stood from her crouch, "Got any clue where Sam is, Feriel?"

The shy elleth had just blinked and shook her head, sending her curls swinging madly around her pointed face. Elle had missed the queer expression on Frodo's face, her slang going completely over his head.

"He must be at luncheon, you're right." Frodo had replied quickly, "Thank you, Elle." The little hobbit had raced off before she could get another word out.

Elle sniggered, struck back to the present as Merry stuck his leg out and sent his friend face first into the dirt. At least she didn't need cable anymore to be entertained.

"Lady Elle, are you sure you do not wish for a cool drink? Or mayhap a shade, to keep you out of the sun?"

"Feriel, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? It's just Elle, you're not my subordinate or my slave. If I need water I'm sure I can find it. Just relax, enjoy yourself." Elle admonished the elleth kindly, "Take some time out to gawk at all the half-dressed elves out there. I'm sure at least one of them you'll find interesting."

Her teasing might have gone a little too far, as Feriel's pale skin warmed considerably and her eyes widened.

"That is quite improper, my Lady."

Elle grinned and leaned back, tilting her face to the sun, "Improper is the best way to be, trust me. And stop with the 'my Lady' crap. I asked you to hang out, not be my personal maid."

Elle peered out, bored, across the field until her eyes hit a flash of silver coming in her direction.

Narrowing her gaze, she flinched and sat a little straighter as the silver-haired elf rounded the bend in the ring outside the training yard. He had two squires in tow, both boys jogging to keep up with his long strides and laden with quivers, hand towels and even a water skin. Typical that a guy like that would have a bunch of lackeys to deign to his every will.

He murmured something unheard to one of his attendants and they rushed forward to provide him with a flask, which he used to splash across his face before tossing it back to the boy.

Legolas didn't look to have even noticed her there with Feriel, thank goodness. She did not feel like another maddening altercation with the likes of him, no matter how nicely his breeches hugged his backside.

"On second thought, I am pretty thirsty. Let's go get that drink." Elle shot up from her seat, turning her back on the elf who had taken up a dominant stance before the archery range, and made a hasty escape toward the pathway within the arced trees.

She wasn't going to wait around watching some asshole wave a bow and arrow around like he was something special. Merry and Pippin would forgive her later for disappearing on them, right now she just needed a glass of sweetberry wine and a long, relaxing bath.

* * *

Elle's hair was damp, freshly washed from her last thorough bathing before they left at dawn. She had no idea how long it would be before she would get another, her skin now pink from scrubbing and then rubbed down with rose oil.

The ends of her dark curls dripped against her lower back as Feriel ran a comb through the length, methodically separating it into sections before beginning a traditional full elvish braid.

The intricate style reminded Elle of a fishtail braid back home, but with smaller plaits and twists interconnecting at the crown and metal beadwork embellished throughout. It was beautiful work, and kind of Feriel to go to the trouble before their leaving.

Elle shuffled to the window seat once she was done, her bare feet grazing over dried leaves as she sat down and lifted the hem of her robes off the floor. She'd be glad to be rid of these opulent dresses, as beautiful and unique as they were. They just weren't practical for travelling, and Elle wasn't accustomed to wearing ostentatious gowns every day as if it were a normal thing to do. She'd have killed for a pair of sweats and a nice thick hoodie to stave off the evening chill, but would make do with the travelling clothes she'd requested.

They had arrived for her that afternoon, folded atop the trunk at the foot of her bed. It seemed like an age ago that Elle has asked Feriel to find her something to travel in that did not look like a Princess's medieval ball gown. Even the travelling robes she'd provided for her had looked like they'd be better off on the set of some 12th century theatre production.

She'd gone to Arwen after that, who'd helped her acquire a few simple tunics, britches and even an overcoat. Simple meaning by elf standards of course, the tunics were both lined at the collar and hem with silver thread in weaving celtic-like patterns, and the high-waisted britches had intricate little leaves carved into their shining silver buttons.

To complete the more practical attire Feriel had, by some miracle, managed to find a pair of soft leather knee-high boots in her size. It had looked near impossible at first, with elvish feet being a good 2-3 inches larger than her own, but she'd managed to find a pair pre-owned by a young elleth who'd left her childhood behind a few years ago.

It was kind of embarrassing that the only shoes that fit her were meant for what was the equivalent to a child within their race, but beggars can't be choosers.

The knots in her stomach hadn't abated, not even after the cheer and festivities of their last night's feast.

She'd started questioning her own sanity at that point. Was she seriously about to embark off into Middle-Earth in the company of four clumsy hobbits, a temperamental dwarf, one withered old wizard, two humans and a pompous, highhanded elf? Had she lost her mind in agreeing to this?

It's not like she could remember what was going to happen. All she knew was that this was going to be one hell of a long and perilous journey, and she was pretty sure a lot of death and horror was soon to follow.

Was this really her life now, worrying about whether or not she'd be alive by the end of the week?

With her long hair pinned and braided elaborately into one dark and curling mass, Elle fell back against her feathered mattress and wished Feriel a good night. Nothing but starlight broke the shadows as the young vartyo closed the door behind her, the moon casting an eerie glow upon the darkened room.

Elle looked to the stars as they began to peek through the dusk, thousands upon thousands lighting up the city almost as well as the sun, what with her newly acquired eyesight.

It was still so strange, so foreign to be able to see so well, especially without the comforting weight of her glasses. She'd always been short-sighted before, but now she'd wager she had better eyesight than any ordinary human. Perhaps not enough to rival the elves, but she now had her nose to counteract that.

But even with her newfound talents, Elle still felt a little out of sorts compared to the rest of the troupe. Each member had their own individual talents that they brought to the table, and years under their belts in handling a weapon. Even the hobbits had their little swords, and Frodo was even more formidable now with his uncle's gifts.

Elle, on the other hand, had no weapons whatsoever and Gandalf had insisted she had no need for one. He'd told her that such weapons were only a hindrance for a wolf, but Elle had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the men had decided that arming a dangerous and volatile creature of evil might not be the best idea.

Well, she'd show them.

Not that she knew how she'd show them, since truthfully she really did have no ability when it came to sword play, but she'd figure it out. At the very least she'd prove she was no useless, psychotic woman who might turn on them the first chance she got.

Elle shivered as she slid beneath the covers, all too aware that this would be her last night in a bed for some time to come.

So why was it that instead of worrying about that, her mind kept drifting to the silver-haired elf, wondering where he slept tonight..?

* * *

The expression on Arwen's face was near wistful as she watched the Ranger adjusting his pack in the courtyard below their balcony. One pale and slender hand rested beneath her chin, supported against the railing as she leaned down to survey their departure solemnly.

Elle had been woken with the rest of the troupe at dawn, and was similarly arranging her new belongings within the rugged pack Radagast had given her when she'd first arrived beside the female elf. She'd yet to venture down into the clearing, her nerves on edge and spiking.

Elle ran her clammy hands over the tops of her fitted britches, going over the list in her head again to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

"Elle?" Arwen interrupted just as she checked for the dozenth time that she'd remembered to pack her shoulder bag with her belongings from home.

"Mmm?"

"Do you... Do you think you'll come back here?" Arwen murmured, turning her dark blue eyes on her.

Elle blinked, snapping out of her daze at the sadness in her friend's tone. She hadn't thought about how their leaving might affect the elleth, seeing as how she'd be staying behind.

"I don't know." Elle replied honestly, and as Arwen's pretty face fell she hurried to commend the statement, "But I'll do everything I can to see it happen. I knew nobody coming here, and you accepted me into your home so easily. You're an amazing friend, Arwen. I can't thank you enough for that."

Arwen's smile was near heartbreaking, her eyes alight as she clasped Elle's hands, "Thank you, Elle. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'll miss you, all of you..." Arwen's gaze flicked down into the courtyard once more, following the Ranger's movements as he left through a walkway.

"He's going to miss you, too." Elle whispered, knowing exactly where Arwen's thoughts had fled.

The elleth looked to her, taking in Elle's knowing look.

"You love him." Elle stated simply, and Arwen nodded once in reply.

Elle squeezed her hand and smiled, "He loves you too, you know. I can see it in the way you look at each other."

Arwen's lips curled into a small smile, "I know."

"Don't worry about him, okay? I'll keep an eye on him for you. You'll see him again."

Arwen's eyes shone and a sad smile tugged at her lips, "That means everything to me. Thank you."

Elle smiled and passed her friend a handkerchief Feriel had hurried to supply. Arwen dabbed at her eyes gently, before a short laugh left her lips.

"Back to more pressing matters. I truly can't picture what you've said in regards to Legolas, it is so out of character for him to act in such a manner. He's always been so courtly and polite in my presence..."

Elle huffed as she stood and placed both hands on her hips, "You're practically a Princess, and I'm a mangy mutt from another dimension. He has no qualms in puffing up like a peacock and strutting about giving unwanted and unneeded opinions in _my_ presence."

"So I guess you're just dying to have more quality time with him, then? You do realise you'll be spending months together now, if not more." Arwen pointed out, grinning as Elle's face descended into horror.

"Shit, I never even thought of that." She groaned, "Oh no... I'll just have to keep myself busy."

"No more sitting on his lap then, I suppose?" Arwen teased in her soft, breathy voice.

Elle glared at her friend, "It's bad enough that _he_ implied I'd wanted to fall into his lap, without you rubbing it in too. Thankfully the rest of the guys seem pretty cool, and I still have my boys to hang out with."

"Why do the... _guys_ seem _cool_?" Arwen queried in confusion, scrunching up her face, "Are they not properly attired for the season?"

Elle chuckled, "I just mean the other men are nice, easy to get along with. Boromir is a laugh, and Gimli is too cute."

"A dwarf, _cute_? How odd." Arwen looked even more baffled than she'd begun, and Elle's dry chuckles turned into peals of laughter as she went back to her bag.

Elle was both frightened and excited. She was bubbling with anticipation, and her wolf was much more prominent in her mind. Once outside these walls she'd be back to keeping a firmer rein on her primal side, and would be under constant supervision.

She was grateful that Gandalf would be there this time. Something about the old man gave Elle a sense of comfort and safety she'd be loath to give up.

It was the elf she was worried about. Intuition told her he would be keeping one eye on her at all times, just waiting for her to slip up and prove his point. She glared at him down in the main entrance below as she buckled up her pack, his attention solely focused on his quiver as he tightened it across one broad, irritatingly perfect shoulder.

Yep, she'd definitely have to watch out for the likes of him. It was in her best interest that she kept her distance.

A chorus of wind chimes began to ring across the spires, signalling a start to the day. The noise stilled her movements.

"It's time to depart, Elle."

She turned, swinging her pack on as she faced her two new friends. She'd barely had time to get to know them, and already she was saying goodbye.

Elle wrapped her arms around Feriel first who looked like she'd been rolled over by a truck at the contact, she was so surprised. It took only a moment before two wispy little arms came around her and hugged her back.

"Take care of yourself, okay? And thank you for everything." She murmured into blonde ringlets before they broke apart. Feriel had tears in her blue eyes as she nodded fervently, tucking a dark curl that had escaped from Elle's elvish braid back behind her ear.

Arwen took her hand, leading her toward a small alcove.

"I have something for you." She whispered, pulling from the folds in her robes a beautifully folded scarf the colour of wine.

"Oh, wow, thank you." Elle replied with a smile, a little confused that her friend had felt the need to hide in order to give her this.

Arwen giggled, "Open it, you dork."

Elle grinned, Arwen had been picking up a few of her more condescending phrases these past few days. She obeyed, and inhaled deeply at what laid inside.

It was plain, simple, and yet exquisitely perfect. The dagger was no bigger than her forearm, and would easily be concealed on her person.

"Oh my gosh, thank you! It's perfect!" Elle tried not to shriek as she tucked the blade and it's sheath into her right boot. "I can't believe you'd get this for me."

Arwen shrugged, "You were so disappointed nobody trusted you with a weapon, and I know it's not much but at least you are capable of defending yourself now. I will rest easy knowing you are not unarmed."

"You really are the best, Arwen." Elle thanked her, as Arwen linked their arms and ushered her toward the stairs. It was with trembling knees that Elle descended from the balcony and into the front courtyard. The large double doors stood silent and still in the early morning light, the only barrier between this magical utopia and the dark and unpredictable world outside.

She kept her head held high, refusing to look weak before the men as she turned and embraced Arwen tightly at the bottom of the stairs.

"Be good." Arwen whispered fondly with a choked laugh.

"Am I ever anything but?" She retorted as they stepped back, a smirk on her face.

Arwen just chuckled as she wrapped the crimson scarf around Elle's neck.

"I'll miss you." Elle said.

"And I you, _pen tithen_."

Arwen took up her place beside three regal looking elves, a few metres away from where her father stood before the company while Elle turned to stand by Merry.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. And to you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will." Lord Elrond began, hands folded before him as he surveyed the group, "Fare well, hold to your purpose. May the blessings of elves, men and free folk go with you."

Elle felt a chill go up her spine as the age old words were spoken, the doors behind them rumbling open the only sound that broke the silence that followed.

Elle took one last long and lingering look at the captivating city before them, at the golden sunlight pouring through trees that had stood in this spot since the dawn of time. It was beautiful, with all the elves in their grace and elegance standing before them on tiered balconies and walkways to survey the historic event.

This was the beginning, and Elle swallowed against the bundle of nerves building in her throat.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer." Came Gandalf's warm and resounding voice.

Elle squeezed Merry's shoulder as they all turned to follow Frodo, who led the procession through the main doors and out into the forest before them.

She barely caught the words he said next, but could have sworn Frodo had whispered to the wizard, "Is it left, or right?"

She could only smile, shake her head, and pray that her decision to come along on this journey hadn't been a foolish one.

* * *

**Let me know what you all think, Reviews are the only gratification I get for this so it does mean so much to me. I know this chap isn't as exciting as some of them by way of action and whatnot, but there's so much to come now that they've left Rivendell! I'm so thrilled, it's much harder for me to write fillers than it is to do the big plot points.**

**Also, you'll quickly find her relationship with Legolas is not going to go anywhere for some time to come. She'll have more feelings for Haldir before she really starts considering Legolas. That's not to say there won't be some "moments" and definite attraction, just don't get too excited just yet!**

**Anywho, in regards to the ridiculously cruel and long wait: All I can do is apologise. After my uncle passed, another family friend died as well a month later who I grew up with as an uncle. So things have been really hard, especially since I've also started a new job, which is exciting but oh, so stressful. If anyone else reading this is also a travel agent, I now feel your pain! This job is nothing like I thought it would be! Hahah**

**I hope you're all happy and healthy, and that you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to tell me what you thought, even if it's in a PM if you don't want to publicly chat about it. I'm always here for a good talk about the story. **

**My love to you all,**

**\- T **

**xo**


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